I sit in a palapa on Saddle Bunch Key, about 15 miles north of the southern most point of the United States. My view is of an inlet, the water rippling. There is art workaround me, a combination of the art my friend Mary has done and the art I have done. Brave Mary set sail in her large RV as a testament to herself as an empowered woman and the love for the partner she just lost. Together, they came here for the last 7 years, and now, she came alone to continue the tradition.

I awake to the sunrise just beyond the open walls of the structure where I’ve been gifted a bed. The sun nudges me awake each morning beckoning me to make love to the day. I give in, and watch the power of the sun’s rise, the golden hour light caressing me deeply, my eyes fluttering closed as the sun comes into its full glory. The soft air brushes against me, I rise and stretch, putting on my bathing attire and stand at the end of the gently rocking dock. I breathe fully, clap my hands, and psyche myself up to leap into the chilled water. “Wim Hof! Wim Hof! Wim Hof!” I chant, the new father of breath work and icy water. It brings back a good moment from St. Petersburg, Florida with my friends a few weeks ago where we were all plunging in and out of the hot tub and freezing pool

I smile remembering that moment and it gives me the propelation I need to leap off  the dock and into the salty sea.  I let out a whoop and begin paddling, my powerful body free styling.  1-2-3 breathe, 1-2-3 breathe, 1-2-3 breathe… I feel my body settle into its strength and power as I watch the other palapas pass by.  I reach the furthest I have since I arrived, each day a little further distance.  Out of breath, I return and climb onto the dock and raise my hands in victory the sun rippling and dancing in celebration with me.  I release a cry of joy and leap in once again.