Working Through Fear

Sharing this from somewhat of a place of vulnerability, as that is important to do, I think. I've been challenging myself in all kinds of adventures recently. Some big, some small, and some unexpected. This one was something that I thought would be just a relaxing pleasure. Turned out to be a challenge.

I have been looking at Carlsbad Lagoon and the many water activities on offer there since I first stayed across the street from it, twenty-seven (!) years ago. But I had never been out on the water there. Somewhat on impulse, because there was a brief break in changeable and gloomy weather, I tried something I have always wanted to do — paddleboarding.

Balance has never been a strong point with me. I wobbled around on ice skates and roller skates as a kid and never got the smooth glide down that others seemed to get effortlessly. Surfing has been more falling off than staying on. Skateboarding — hard NOPE. Yoga has been a challenge, even after I slimmed down considerably in recent years. So has boxing training, and dance lessons. There's a grace and poise needed that takes me a lot of work to attempt.

Nevertheless, I was surprised when I got on a paddleboard for the first time, and found what looked easy was going to be a challenge for me. With every little wave, I was constantly adjusting my stance and my balance, sure I was going to fall off. It took me some time of total focus while gliding across a relatively calm lagoon to push past a feeling of fear.

Then I got to the other end of the lagoon, and turned around. Now the waves were not at my back. They were coming towards me. This should have made it tougher, I thought. But it didn't. Now I could see what was coming, I could adjust. I crouched down more when the big ones rocked me and slapped the bottom of the board. I got the hang of heading into them straight on.

I also realized I needed to not be scared of falling in. It was a warm California day, and warm water. What was the worst that could happen? I'd climb back on and keep going. There was no downside. Only more to learn, in my slow way.

Like a video game, every time it seemed I got the hang of one element, it grew tougher. I passed the area where jetskiers zoomed by, feet from me. The waves crossed each other in chaotic checkerboard (well, Argyle, to be precise) patterns, bouncing off the shore and back to me, making for an unpredictable rolling swell. I accepted the challenge with peace, because I'd got over the fear of falling. And I made it through — inelegantly, no doubt, but I did it.

From the shore, I am sure the sight of someone wobbling around in small waves looked comical. But for me, it was an achievement. And I am going to remember that next time I see someone else trying something that looks easy to most, but is not to them.

I hope being open about my fears helps others with theirs, whatever they are.