When I was twelve years old I dreamt about swimming in a pool. It was an indoor pool in a dimly lit mostly concrete and tile room, sort of Roman bath style. There was a giant window, almost the whole wall, made out of those blocks of glass that you can’t see through, on one long side of the pool.
The water was cool and refreshing, not chlorine-ey. It was serene and peaceful. The only sound was me, gliding through the water, and the echo of myself.
Well, that and Bruce Willis who happened to be there, standing beside the pool, smirking at me (you know that smirk, right? 1985 Bruce? *fans self*) because I am enjoying myself so much.
But Bruce is irrelevant to the story. (Sorry, Bruce) Despite writing to his fan club and getting a 5×7 glossy picture that I spoke to him through telepathically, he did not swoop in, declare me his dream girl and snatch me up for living happily ever after and swimming in that pool. (Maybe being 12 had something to do with it…)
For 36 years now I have wanted an indoor pool, ever since that dream swim. It’s something about the calm that I want. The quiet. The water. The peace.
This summer was the first year I googled indoor pools to see if I could make my dreams come true. Maybe because I’m looking for peace more than ever these days. It turns out with record temps, a lot of people googled pools, it even made the news!
I learned I can do it, all I need is one simple winning lottery number or a mysterious benefactor (Um, Bruce? I didn’t mean it when I said you were irrelevant!) and I will be on my way to making my dreams come true.
Sometimes when I’m back floating in the lake I come close to that feeling from the dream. Floating, weightless, in the quiet, the only sound the water and the birds. But then a sunfish tugs at my hair, or a boat comes racing into the bay, and the feeling is lost.
I decided to Google and see if Bruce went on to get the pool of my dreams without me. (It is really quite amazing what you can find out on the internet, isn’t it?) I took a tour in pictures of the lovely mansion he shares with his wife (She doesn’t have to know about the pool, Bruce, it can be our little secret) and their two daughters.
There is an indoor pool, but it is not my pool. It is BRIGHT and white and glassy.
My pool is still out there waiting for me.
And I’m still chasing that peace.
Nic
NickNackPaddyWhack-ed 