Swimming

As the weather gets warm, something from last summer:

            This is going to be a long process. 

            For those who don't know the whole story, I'm going to back up a little here: I got relatively traumatized the summer before third grade and therefore I never learned to swim.  (Hey, Rev. Williams, how was moving?  Um, yeah, funny thing, we almost drowned your kids, but they're fine now...  Actually, as far as I know, the conversation wasn't even that in depth, it was more like 'sorry Jon's clothes got wet'.)  I hate being in the water, though I've always loved being near it, and there's a thousand reasons a person can use to avoid swimming, so I always did.  Now, I'm an adult with no real reason to want to swim other than that I kinda want to drown proof myself.  See, to me swimming is a form of entertainment, and to me it's not entertaining.  Despite going through major illness, accidents, a rough pregnancy, having seizures, and other things I'd rather not mention on Facebook, drowning is pretty much the only thing in my life that I am afraid of... period.  Everything else is just inconvenient. 

            My circle, my former supervisor (Rabbit), and numerous other people have all pointed out that I won't ever be able to learn until I want to for me, not to prove anything to anyone else.  But I don't do things like this for me.  Because as I pointed out, I don't really have a desire to do it.  I'll stay dry or in the shallow end, thanks. 

            Then there's Becca... who recently at the pool cried because she said she was afraid she would drown.  Damn, when did I use those words in front of her?  I was being so careful...

            All I've ever wanted to be is a good mom, no matter what else I do, and it's becoming apparent that part of being a good mom to a child who likes water is knowing how to swim.  Great.  Megan pointed out that this is part of my protective instinct, the thing that causes me to be so gung ho doing for OTHER people rather than myself (the part that makes my sister, mother and friends scream at me to take care of myself first).  And Rob says that simply saying I'm going to do it isn't enough.  I have to be in the moment, visualizing already doing it.  Apart from which, if a Hiroshima survivor can meditate to the point of regrowing flesh and bone of an arm he lost, why the hell can't I, a college educated adult, learn to swim?  No more excuses.  I had to do it, to be able to protect Becca at the pool. 

            Circle was helpful for getting me to decide that this was the summer, (thank you Anna for the lesson on self healing) but still, even after I begged a friend to help me, I was afraid of failing.  This will be the eighth person to tackle trying to get me fish-like, and each time it falls flat, I give up AGAIN.  However, he's tackling my fear first, and that might actually work.  Become comfortable in the water?  Yeeeeaaaah, not so easy.  I tried tien gunn (the kung fu forms I'm learning, thank you Tom), which helped somewhat.  I have goggles now, too (thank you, Jason).  It was working, and Becca was happily playing with someone else, so when he suggested going under, I went ahead and tried. 

            As I said, this will be a long process. 

            Surrounded by the same overly cheery blue that was the last thing I saw before becoming unconscious 26 summers ago, that plugged up noise of water and your own heartbeat in your ears, the water pressure all around your whole head... everything works fine on paper, but not in the water.  Water in my sinuses, which burns like a bitch, just like it did before.  I was logical as all hell, calm and just fine, and in less than two seconds I was in mortal panic and gagging and coughing by the wall.  No.  I can't do this.  He was trying to be encouraging, pointing out that next time maybe I could get the top of my head wet, too?  Next time?  Not a damn chance. 

            "You can do it, Mama!" 

            Out of nowhere, Becca, with a huge smile on her face.  I love her so much.  You see, the other thing she picked up from me apparently is how much I want the people I love to succeed.  The little angel who had been crying and scared didn't want me to be.  I was frozen, remembering a line from a Disney movie I watched with her:

            Courage is not the absence of fear.  It is the knowledge that something else is more important.  Becca is more important.  Not failing my teachers is more important.  Allowing Pat to trust me that Becca will be safe at the pool is more important.  Healing myself of this one, huge phobia is more important.  Keeping my end of a long-standing bet because a friend already learned to drive is more important. 

            Living my life without fear is more important. 

            I went under twice more, and hated it each time, but I did it.  If I can do it again next time, we will move on to treading water... trusting the water to hold me up.  Yike.  Any prayers or positive energy anyone can send me would be much appreciated (me or my frustrated teachers, both if you can spare it).  I have July and August to do this, and I am determined.  I have rarely failed anything I truly put my mind to.  I am going to swim...

            Okay, sorry Rob: I AM swimming!