Pink Ink Creative

Groaning In My Snorkel


"And yet, to me, most of the countless fish going about their business on the Tavarua foreshore were nameless, mysterious. Some were so pointlessly gorgeous I found myself groaning in my snorkel." -William Finnegan in Barbarian Days

The last couple of months has been filled with short grunts and deep tiresome sighs. Waking up at 5 AM to scrape ice off my windshield, scrubbing floors stained with strawberry jam, wondering where to move next, and alternating between feelings of deep depression and doubt. There is a thin line between honesty and superficiality, and sometimes you have to forgive yourself for being between worlds. 

But in between the grunts have been loan groans of sweet relief. 

I had forgotten about the moments where you find yourself "groaning into your snorkel" from the deliciousness of life that creeps up on you when your eyes are closed underwater. The groans that sneak in between the monotonous grunts of our daily rituals. 

Good songs coming on the radio at the perfect moment, sweet afternoon naps with my boyfriend, petting puppies on the street that jump up and lick your face, laughing my face off around round tables, good coffee, yummy burrito bowls, satisfying Netflix and chill evenings, long hugs, and walks on pine needles that let you leave your worries on the forest floor. 

Sweet groans will escape your lips on days when you least expect any form of relief. 

And that is a promise.