Late Night Swim

I need my own identity – one that does not depend on where I work, who I married, my race, religion, or culture.  I also need my own time – time devoted to things I love.  I have interests that need to be explored.

My co-worker suggested that I should swim at night.  I like swimming – actually love swimming, especially after a long day.  There is a beautiful pool in my complex that calls my name every night when I walk up the driveway to my place.  Swimming at night poses a problem though – there are bats in my area that swarm around the lights.  Many say that these bats don’t bite. However, there just needs to be one bat that proves everyone wrong.  And knowing me, I would be the one person to find that bat.  There are always bugs hovering right above the pool – they love water (although I’m not sure why).  Aren’t those bugs teasing the bats – begging the bats to swoop down to the pool in search for dinner?  What if I come up from my breast stroke just as a bat is diving down, with fangs open, ready to taste the bug feast that awaits, and instead of the bugs, the bat gets a piece of my head for dinner?  That may be a risk that I’m not willing to take.  My co-worker says that “I think too much” but is there really a problem with that?   It’s survival of the fittest out there – it’s a scientific fact.  So if I determine there is an actual risk to my life of swimming at night, then maybe I should think twice before taking the plunge.  Maybe if more people thought before they did things then a lot less accidents would occur.  

On the other hand, I have decided that I am way too risk adverse, and want to face some of my fears.  I see (in the movies) that facing your fears leads to personal development.  So maybe I will take a dip, and just see how much I can tempt fate by ‘swimming with the bats.’  People swim with sharks all the time – which has to be way more risky than what I’m proposing.  

If I’m not here tomorrow – then you know why.  But if I am, maybe I will have experienced some personal growth – facing my fear and surviving.  Although I have to say, I’m not dying to find out…