Swim, lumber, rest.

A quote from Anne Lamott's book "Grace (Eventually)"

Monk seals swim ashore in Hawaii to rest on the sand. The adult seals are six and seven feet long and they all look like Charles Laughton. The newest tourists on the beach think they are dying and need to be rescued but anyone who has been there even a day knows that they come onshore to rest. Pool workers from the beachside resort always arrive, with yellow safety tape and traffic cones, to rope off a space for the seals to rest in. The first time I came upon one in the sand, I thought it was trying to make eye contact with me--I was it’s last best hope of being saved. It had sand around its eyes and lots of shark scars. My guy Rory, who surfs in Hawaii every year, laughed and explained that the seals are perfectly fine, and when they are rested, they waddle back to the ocean.

This is how I feel about the world much of the time, when I am not feeling too far gone: things are how they are supposed to be, all evidence to the contrary. Life swims, lumbers across the sand, rests: lumbers, swims, rests.