SauceA pot of sauce cools on my windowsill. Steam rises in the stillness of the cool morning air.
Leica IIIf

Today, the water felt like the softest velvet, gently caressing my skin as I pulled myself the length of the pool. I was gliding with just the right amount of effort to keep it interesting. 52 laps and my best time ever, I crushed it, 52 laps in no time at all...really, the clock was broken at the pool. So, it was my best time ever.

As I swim, I think about life. By the time I haul myself out of the pool, I've got it all figured out.

Life boils down to a thick sauce of sadness and pain which is usually in need of seasoning. You can't season the sauce without tasting it. You've got to have done it many times to know what to add to make a lively sauce from a bland, sad mess. With a pinch of salt, some thyme or maybe lemon zest, you can make it sing. In my experience, it will never be the same, no matter how many times you reduce it like this, it's unpredictable to a degree. 

Standing on the edge of the pool, dripping, thinking, rejuvenating mind and body, I watch a group of 13 year old boys attempt to impress each other with their speedy swimming. Heads up, swiveling in time with their madly splashing arms, they get nowhere fast. The swim lesson hasn't started yet. I remember as a kid watching my mom in the pool. She'd never submerge her head, never put her face in the water, for fear of messing up her hair. 

For me, a high point of life, my lemon zest, is swimming. I put my face in it and I was eager to learn. This...this right here is the key to making a great reduction sauce of life. Do not be afraid of putting your face in it and be eager to learn. And keep doing it.