I’m not afraid of the water
At the age of 3 my mother would wake me up at 6am so we
could have our toes in the sand during peak sun hours.
For 6 years I lived on a Mediterranean island; the azure
waters my delight.
I love to splash my feet along the water’s edge.
Nature’s symphony and duality of lapping water and crashing
waves is mesmerizing.
I live within a two-mile jog of the Oceanfront and bask in
gritty air and salt-licked skin.
But ask anyone who participates with me in ocean-involved
endurance events and you will hear a different perspective.
Yes – I’m the girl frantically galloping to dry land in
hopes of escaping the looming arched form from taking me prisoner. (Only to be
sent back in).
I’m not afraid of the water. I’m terrified of the angry surf
so powerful a 250lb man is thrust to his knees.
I was not always like this.
Ocean waves represent a powerful, unyielding force that can
hold one captive for an immeasurable length of time. The push and pull is
unpredictable and relentless. Lack of air. Fear.
Displacement.
Fear of waves (and I refer to Ocean City size waves) is
relatively new.
I understand the trigger.
I’m determined to overcome it.
And that’s why I subject myself to event after event where I
must face my demons sandy-faced and determined.
We all have a process. Everyone is unique in learning to
accept or overcome deep fears, regret, guilt, anger, etc.
The most important part of the process is that you don’t
have to be alone. When I stand in 8ft waves stifling screams and epithets I am
surrounded by a team of supporters: my physical anchors and my emotional
cheerleaders.
I love my job because I am afforded the opportunity to be
your anchor. I am no magician and I cannot make the past disappear.
I can provide tools and empathy and validation to assist you
in facing the darkness.
You are never alone.
I am not afraid of the water. I’ve been afraid of what it
represents.
L
