I need to crawl out of this day, use my legs, unfurling behind me like bannerment, to propel my head to the clouds. Shed my suit, and the tasks I keep in its pockets, and step into the quiet rustle of my softest poly-blend pair of shorts. Let my worries pool up with my sweat, and slide off of my temple and onto the ground below. Steady, rhythmic bass and soaring crescendos will reset the shallow rise and fall of my chest. My salty countenance, afire and freshly baptized as I ease my face into the intrusive, icy arc of the nearest water fountain. I will emerge — emboldened in my weakness, and one with the glory of this congregation.