I forgot about my 5 minutes writing experiment last night and went to bed at 9pm. My fella was home and sleepy (he works nights) so we just shut it down and hit the hay. In an effort to not forget again tonight, even though it’s nearly 10pm and I have about 2 hours of work ahead of me… well, here I am. Obv. (I’m very exciting, aren’t I?? ;-P)
The other day I wrote about the experience that made me start to close in on myself. The event that fed my fear enough to change the trajectory of my future. Today I will tell you about the event that made me start to turn it back around. There was about 20 years between the two events.
It was the fourth or fifth time that I put myself into swimming lessons as an adult. Although swimming was a part of our physical education curriculum in my elementary school, I could not swim (and still can’t, quite frankly). I tried to learn, I wanted to learn. The moment that got me every time, though… the lesson that I skipped and never returned over and over (and over) was jumping into the deep end. I tried it when I was a kid. I was super stoked to show off my abilities during a general swim with all my friends, but the moment I hit the water I panicked and had to be pulled out of the pool by the life guard. Deva. Stated.
So this one time when I was in my 30s I looked at the whole thing logically. Sure I was scared out of my mind to jump into the deep end but I couldn’t remember exactly why. And everyone else was doing it and they all survived. Hmph. I told myself to stop being a bitch and I jumped.
Then I went horseback riding, hot air ballooning, wake boarding, bungee jumping, flew a plane, ran a 10k, quit smoking for the last time and basically turned my whole world around. It all only took a decade or so. All from one step off the side of a pool.
It’s weird to think about that wimp of a woman now. But I love her, neurotic messed up bitch that she was.