The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul. – Psalm 23, psalm of David
Before you could be the swimmer cannonballing free and naked into the peaceful waters of a pool without agitating the surface much at all in the process (see Naked as the day, 14 January 2024), you were this guy.
Let’s call him Winter. Winter Waters. Why? Because of the dream, the one you had shortly after moving into the Adelphi Street apartment as a soon-to-be divorcée in late December 2018. The strangest dream. It went like this: Winter Waters, thirty-one, sixty-one, ninety-one. That’s it. Two words, three numbers.
All day, the two words and the three numbers turn over and over in your head. In the evening, after dinner, you sit down and do what you haven’t done in forever: you write. For hours. For fun. About Winter Waters, of course. At ninety-one, first, and then back up through the years to sixty-one, to thirty-one.
But why stop at thirty-one? Why not keep going back and back until you can’t go back anymore, until you realize that Winter Waters is you, that you are more suitably named Florence Belleville, that the story you are writing about her is your story, and that it is answering the quintessential question found at the heart of the book suggested to you by your shaman at the end of your first session on 8 October 2019: Who are you? Who in the world is Florence Belleville?
The answer to that question, Florence, is almost too simple to believe. To find it, this answer, and the peace it will bring, you must dive deep, you must plunge into the water. Though it be rocky and full of obstacles, do not be troubled or afraid; be joyful, rather, knowing that God is with you. He will lead you to quiet waters; he will pull you up and lay you down safely on the most tranquil of shores.
Le plongeur series is inspired by the character on the right in the piece titled J’aimerais bien savoir où elle se fait coiffer, elle.