Jun 22, 2008 | 2:27 pm
Work It Out
I’m on my last day of a 12 day vacation. I’m in a motel in Medford, Oregon – a place that has held many fears for me. A past of college, dating, partying, and making stupid college mistakes. Now it’s time to make up.
I used to swim competitively for about three years. I don’t think I was very competitive and found it to be more recreation than a sport. Yet I was in the pool at least three times a week, often in swim meets. Family would come to swim meets to support me. Then something happened. I don’t know what it was for sure – but I’m going to guess it was associated with puberty.
It took me years to build up the courage to get back into a pool. I couldn’t take my shirt off in public and the ridicule I’d surely receive because of my body was not worth the personal freedom I would gain by doing so. Let me be clear that I know very clearly that this is the voice of fear. It is not the truth. It kept me “safe” from public scrutiny. I felt shame, sadness, embarassment, terror, and stuck.
A few days ago Vegas’ Treasure Island pool, I removed my shirt in public. This was a risk for me. Taking this risk left me to feel vulnerable yet my soul needed me to take this risk and do something completely new and foreign to me. No one looked, no one stared, no one pointed. Everyone (and there were hundreds there) was more concerned about how they looked. (I never got that point in the past – people weren’t as ashamed of their body as I was of mine – they were concerned in their own way. e.g. I might be ashamed, others are excited, numb, frightened, or content with their body.) I laid there soaking in the sun, journaling about the experience and realizing that I had just set myself free.
This morning, back in Medford, I faced another risk. A pool I could swim in. I woke up early to get into the pool first thing. I couldn’t even tell Len I was going to until I was walking out the door (if I had told Len before then I might actually be accountable which is scary to me sometimes). I walked into the pool area, took my shirt off, and carefully started walking in.
My breathe started going fast, my heart started beating fast, I was shaking. This wasn’t just because it was cold…Â it was because I was afraid. Afraid of looking stupid, that I couldn’t swim, that I had made a dumb decision. I stood there, frozen, unable to move. I asked myself what I could do to make this work for me – and then I saw the spa.
I jumped into the spa with glee! It was warm and bubbly. I sat there basking how I had conquered the fear of taking my shirt off. And then I remembered that this wasn’t about that fear – this was about swimming. I was afraid to swim in public just as much as I was afraid to be shirtless and it took conquering the one fear to get the next one conquered.
I literally said to myself, “Joe, this is all just fear. The shortness of breath is a fear mechanism. What you’re going to do now is get up, get into the pool, swim to one side and swim back. Go.” And I did. I got in and the same fear tried to keep me small and frozen. I bent over, leaned forward, and pushed off. I didn’t breathe like I used to years ago. I didn’t float like I used to. But I got to the other side. I waited for a second and remembered that I said I was going to swim back to the first side. Again I put my head down and headed to the first side. Then I kept doing it. More and more I got more used to it and made adjustments in how I swam to make it work for me. Soon, I became sad that the pool was so small and I wanted more.
When I decided I was done I got back into the spa and reflected on the experience. I won. My freedom won. I fought fear this morning and I’m still picking fear out of my teeth.
Homework: Name the thing you want to do. You can either sit with that for 18 years like I did, or you can name your next step and do it.
Truly Yours,
Joseph Lyons