I have felt very out-of-sorts lately. The reasons are not important. Suffice it to say: Even when you can recognize that the thoughts in your head are stories you are telling yourself that may or may not be true, that recognition doesn’t always make the thoughts smaller or more manageable. They can still shake your confidence, your worth, your behavior, your openness.

But I caught a cold over the weekend and felt so miserable by Sunday night that I decided to jump in the lake. I thought the shock would jolt me back to health.

As I sank beneath the icy water, it felt like I was being baptized anew. And, as I sat on a piece of driftwood in the warm golden light, I realized that the broken records in my head had finally stopped.

I felt like me again.

Going to the lake always feels like coming home.

Going under always feels like a benediction.