It was one of those days when lethargy takes the better of you. The summer heat was on full display outside. All I wanted to do was to sit, legs outstretched, on my sofa and sip on a tall glass of cold lemonade. But it was the summer holidays, and I had two energy balls, a.k.a my five-year-old and seven-year-old, with me at home. The energy balls had other plans for the day. They wanted to go swimming.

“Come on,” my seven-year-old goaded

I groaned.

“How about we take a nap instead?” I proposed to them

“Come with me,” my son pulled me up to my feet and dragged me to my room. 

“Look,” he said and jumped up, pointing at something on my wall – my vision board. 

I was trying this new thing. Putting things I desire, to have or to be, on my vision board. It was not fully covered. But there were a few ambitious subjects out there. One of them was a picture of a woman her face in the water, one sinewed arm arching out and the other one, invisible, slicing through the water. That could be me. One day. 

“Don’t you tell me to practice reading to get better?” my son asked loudly. 

“Yeah,” I admitted.

 “It’s just like that,” he concluded. “If you want to be that, you have to practice, you have to swim.” 

I didn’t know if I should rejoice that he had taken my sage advice to heart or be annoyed that he was spurting it all back at me. But the logic was undeniable.

If I wanted to be the lady with the fiery freestyle, I would have to endure the afternoon heat, the tan on my shoulders, and the less desirable shared bathroom facilities.

I gathered the towels, the sunscreen, and my energy balls and headed out the door.