Mama ocean is my backyard.
Sometimes it's the smallest things that cause us fear and keep us from something we really want. And sometimes we feel like we can only do things if we have someone to do them with.
When I first started driving and needed gas, I couldn't stop by the gas station and pump the fuel by myself. I always had someone else do it, until one day I was driving alone, on empty, and had no other choice.
And there are tons of these instances. Situations where I was too afraid to do something or go somewhere by myself.
Today was different.
When I first started driving and needed gas, I couldn't stop by the gas station and pump the fuel by myself. I always had someone else do it, until one day I was driving alone, on empty, and had no other choice.
And there are tons of these instances. Situations where I was too afraid to do something or go somewhere by myself.
Today was different.
Lots of hours spent in the hammock.
I was sitting in the hammock on the patio listening to a recorded call on my iPod when the sun came out. We've had three days of clouds and rain so this was quite welcome.
The light illuminated the ocean that is our backyard – gorgeous deep blues and turquoise, crystal clear, big schools of fish leaping, children splashing and playing. I knew I wanted to be in the water.
But this fear rose up in me; I didn't want to go by myself, but Jason was napping. I could try and wake him up and get him to go with me, but chances were slim that he'd stir much.
So I listened to the rest of the call, surveyed the beach, wondered what it was I was so afraid of.
I went inside and tried to wake the sleeping giant. “Do you want to swim? The water's really clear.”
“Maybe later,” and he rolled over.
I knew I either had to go on my own or forget it.
So I had this conversation in my head about why I was so afraid to sit on the beach by myself. Mostly it has to do with people staring at me (being one of the only white females in this town catches people's eyes). Then I came to the conclusion that I wasn't going to miss out on a gorgeous day in the sea because I have some kind of stupid fear.
I put on my bathing suit, took a breath of confidence, and walked to the water.
Yes, some people stared, but only for a blink of a moment, and it was mostly kids who smiled and waved.
And once I was in the ocean I felt at home, content, happy that I chose to do it on my own and not wait for someone to hold my hand. I didn't let fear guide me.
I nestled my feet into the sand, watched the fish leap, rolled onto my stomach and let the waves rock me.
It felt divine.
The light illuminated the ocean that is our backyard – gorgeous deep blues and turquoise, crystal clear, big schools of fish leaping, children splashing and playing. I knew I wanted to be in the water.
But this fear rose up in me; I didn't want to go by myself, but Jason was napping. I could try and wake him up and get him to go with me, but chances were slim that he'd stir much.
So I listened to the rest of the call, surveyed the beach, wondered what it was I was so afraid of.
I went inside and tried to wake the sleeping giant. “Do you want to swim? The water's really clear.”
“Maybe later,” and he rolled over.
I knew I either had to go on my own or forget it.
So I had this conversation in my head about why I was so afraid to sit on the beach by myself. Mostly it has to do with people staring at me (being one of the only white females in this town catches people's eyes). Then I came to the conclusion that I wasn't going to miss out on a gorgeous day in the sea because I have some kind of stupid fear.
I put on my bathing suit, took a breath of confidence, and walked to the water.
Yes, some people stared, but only for a blink of a moment, and it was mostly kids who smiled and waved.
And once I was in the ocean I felt at home, content, happy that I chose to do it on my own and not wait for someone to hold my hand. I didn't let fear guide me.
I nestled my feet into the sand, watched the fish leap, rolled onto my stomach and let the waves rock me.
It felt divine.
He's a pretty amazing guy, but I can't expect him to hold my hand through everything.
So here's what I've learned:
Don't let fear guide you.
Sometimes stuff is going to feel really icky until you just do it.
Ask, "What's the worst that can happen?"
It's hardly ever what you imagine it to be.
Don't rely on other people to make you happy.
If I had waited until Jason was ready, it might have been too late and I would've missed out on an incredible afternoon.
We are writing our own stories. Today I wrote that I wanted to swim in the ocean and I did it.
Do you have a similar story? A time you did something scary on your own, no matter how big or small.
Tell me about it.
Don't let fear guide you.
Sometimes stuff is going to feel really icky until you just do it.
Ask, "What's the worst that can happen?"
It's hardly ever what you imagine it to be.
Don't rely on other people to make you happy.
If I had waited until Jason was ready, it might have been too late and I would've missed out on an incredible afternoon.
We are writing our own stories. Today I wrote that I wanted to swim in the ocean and I did it.
Do you have a similar story? A time you did something scary on your own, no matter how big or small.
Tell me about it.
