I don’t
know if you have them, those fears that you know are completely unreasonable,
but still you just can’t shake them. I have a couple, the biggest being a fear
of going into open bodies of water, such as lakes or oceans. It’s not that I
can’t swim, because I can. It is a fear that little (or not so little) fishes
will come up and nibble on my toes. I know the chances of that happening are
slim-to-none, yet it is still there. I
have a cousin to thank for this irrational thought.
Up until I
had my daughter, I could safely stay away from going into bodies of water without
any real consequences. However, once I had a child that changed, because I did
not want her to be afraid as I was. This meant a journey of facing this fear
and going into oceans and lakes.
Fast
forward to our last trip to Hawaii. On Christmas Day afternoon we went to the
beach. It was a gorgeous sunny day, perfect for the beach. The waves were big
enough for safely playing, but not so big as to be scary. We had even decided
to leave all cellphones and cameras back at the condo.
My dad and
husband took CJ into the ocean and were trying to teach her how to body-surf. Mom
and I watched from the beach. Then the dreaded words came: “Mom, when are you
coming into the water to play with me. “ So beckoned, I summoned up my courage
and went out into the water, but only up to my knees.
As I stood
there, I saw how much fun they were all having, and before I knew it, I was there
out in the water above my waist, holding on to CJ’s hand and waiting for a
wave. It was a big one. We caught it and
rode it in, and then it pulled me under. I knew I was safe because of knowing
exactly where I was in relationship to the beach. Then came the next wave, and
the next. You can probably imagine the picture. Me attempting to wipe water off
my face so I can open my eyes, trying to hold on to CJ and getting knocked over
two more times. By the third time, I was laughing so hard my husband had to
come help me up. It was quite the humorous sight to behold, especially to my
mother safely seated on the beach, watching in laughter.
Here is the
thing: in the midst of all this I forgot to be afraid. I forgot my fear of the
fish. Instead I felt alive and fearless. I was having fun, completely in the
moment and creating one of the best memories with my family I have created in a
while.
But there
were exercises that I performed to get to this point of fearlessness. There
were several ventures into the ocean with and without CJ on trips prior to this,
and a conscious effort to engage my fear in healthy ways. If I was not willing to do the work of
practicing being less afraid, I would have missed out on something
incredible. It is a fine balance of having
fear that keeps us aware and safe, and being fearful such that it keeps us from
engaging in life experiences.
As I have
reflected on the idea of practicing fearlessness, I have come to believe that
an essential component of courage is faith.
It is my faith in God that helps me to step out into that great unknown
of life and embrace some of the really hard stuff. It is my faith that allows me to know that no
matter what, God is ever- present even when I am standing on the precipice of
trying something that scares the living daylights out of me.
It is this
combination of faith and practice of facing my fears that has led me to some
pretty amazing things, like the memories made on the beach, climbing a very
high rock wall to see an amazing view and even writing and editing my first
book with Tabatha, my friend and co-blogger.
I acknowledge that my fears probably pale in comparison to the fears of
many other people. For some, the idea of
facing a fear may be all the fearlessness they can handle. That’s okay.
Hey, it took me 20- plus-years to get to this point.
I have also found great freedom from this
practice of fearlessness, and that is what I am celebrating: my fearlessness. I have found a new type of strength and
possibility. Now to tackle fresh water lakes (I still have a healthy respect, a.k.a.
fear, of those.)
