Feet sinking into wet sand, I recall childhood fears of quicksand, as though the terrifying prospect of impotently drowning into liquid earth would be a constant in my life. 

The setting sun pale orange among wisps of lilac cloud. Waves receding, I yield to gravity. I’m stuck in a mental quicksand, unable to extricate myself from the downward sucking sensation in my guts.

Ankles covered now, the edge of the sea only metres away. A sharp, fleeting streak of panic whips  through me, confusing the recalled quicksand fears with present reality.

Tears fall. I don’t want this. The fears, searching, diminished existence; the untruths, broken trust, my slide into utter dependence. The once-fun party grown into a monstrous priority.

“I’m not doing this any more”, a fierce yet compassionate voice intones, rising up from within from my bleeding womb: a warrior goddess I’ve never encountered before. Unearthly and initially frightening, she commands me forward, towards the ebbing sea. 

I cannot resist. 

“Surrender”, the voice whispers.

I walk into the sea, fear evaporating with each step. The deity grows strong within me. My volition now infused by this unbidden force. 

A high wailing cry emits from my mouth raised to an indigo sky, to greet the coming night. A howl of liberation. I’m free, serene and strangely grounded in water. Out on the high seas raising storms, wrecking ships and soothing troubled waters. 

I rise to a wild, earthy dance of power and witchery. I am possessed… of myself.