Swimming 101

Learning to swim is a funny thing -- they make you wear those goofy, puffy things on your arms when you're first learning.  Then, the better you get, they take those things off and you're left to tread water on your own.  And you learn not simply to tread, but to swim laps with finesse and style.  But, no matter how good you become at swimming, if the water starts to rise above your head for far too long, you begin to freak out a little inside.  There's a little panic that says, "can I get out of this?" "what if my head never rises above this?" "I can't breathe...oh crap!"

It seems lately, I've had the same little panic inside.  Panic in the midst of deep (and rising) waters of ambiguity, of unclarity, of uncertainty, of fear & hesitancy, etc.  As the waters rise, my natural tendency is to freak out and jump out of the pool.  If the waters can cause damage, if there's potential for the waters to rise and hurt me, then I'm out.  I'll sit quite comfortably on the side in a patio chair, thank you very much.  (This white, blonde girl can tan like a champ out there, you know).

But, I'm fighting the urge to jump out of the pool.  Yes, the water can be dangerous.  But the same water can be fun and enjoyable and playful, too.  I want to play in the water -- I want to refuse getting out the pool.  I want to stay in the pool and I want to swim well.

The question for me isn't, "how do I get out of this pool to save myself?"  But rather, "how do I live well in the pool I find myself?"

Fears can not only paralyze me -- but they can prevent me.  Prevent me from experiencing goodness and richness.  I fear the unknown, so I don't move toward it -- but in the unknown may be some of the sweetest life I've experienced yet.  It typically is, actually.

May you be a person who swims well in the waters of ambiguity.  May I, too, be a woman who swims and plays and laughs in the rising waters of unsureness.  The Creator of the seas HAS to be good and wise.

...because this is hilarious