State of Grace

I've been watching my kids in varying stages of learning to swim this week. Like I mentioned before, they've had a really good teacher and they made much more progress in a week than I expected.

Their teacher is an interesting woman. Short hair, deep voice, short, muscular build-- not what you'd call feminine or svelt. But, put her in the water and it's a different story.

She turns into a mermaid. It is beautiful to watch her swim. She is so fluid and graceful-- it's more like a dance than a sport.

Making that observation this week gives me the answer to a question I've asked all my life. Why can't I swim?

Because I am not graceful. And, apparently, grace is what keeps the water from going up your nose and making you cough. Grace is what makes your kicks actually propel your body and not just splash everyone around you. And grace is what makes a backstroke look like an efficient windmill and not a drowning rat.

Dictionary.com defines grace as "elegance or beauty of form, manner, motion or action." I don't know what the opposite of graceful is, but me running, swimming, walking or even breathing is probably posted right by that word.

I remember meeting my kindergarten teacher right before school started-- you know, in the old days where they didn't test your alphabet and reading skills, but instead tested your colors and if you could walk on a very short balance beam? I couldn't do it and I remember my mom and my teacher trying not to laugh at my efforts.

Oh, the scars. :-)

It's never been a big deal-- I've learned to entertain others with my klutziness.

But today, watching that dolphin-lady dance in the water, I realized that she is one of the lucky residents of the state of grace.

And that's a place I just can't seem to find on my map.