A few weeks ago I shared about my new venture into paddle boarding and some of the lessons I received on my first rental outing. Click here if you missed it. After going out several times on a rental board with an outfitter, I decided to invest in my own board. Much research took place along with an equal share of procrastination and avoidance, because it felt like such a big decision and commitment.

Each time a decision was made about which board to get, I just could not pull the trigger. But I didn’t want to spend any more money on a rental, so there was some urgency there to make a decision. I struggle with spending money on myself if it isn’t for work-related things, and isn’t going to benefit someone else. I was introduced to the term “funorexic” a year ago and that really hits home. I am much more comfortable working rather than playing, giving rather than receiving, and making and saving money, rather than spending it.

However, I have been confronting my small way of being in this world for the last year and I’m starting to see the fruits of that showing up as becoming willing to take more risks, to stop hiding at home, and to really live. I’m reminded of one of my favorite readings in my book on December 31. Those men really lived. I want to go out of this life with stories that are so outrageous that people will have to wonder whether they were true or not.

I can’t wait to tell you a story next week along those lines. Or maybe I’ll tell it today? At any rate, I finally ordered a board and it arrived mid-day last week. I let it sit on the front porch for about four hours before I had the courage to bring it in the house. I could not open it. I started questioning what in the heck I had done. The board is 10’6” so it was a very large box, and It looked like a very big commitment.

My husband said that he would open the box when he got home. I watched as he opened it and began to put it together. He knows me well. It might have taken me a week to do what he did in 30 minutes. I bought an inflatable paddleboard and he started to inflate it. The more it began to resemble a real paddleboard, the scarier it felt. 

My mind raced with thoughts like, What are you thinking? You’re too old! You’re too weak to carry this! You don’t know what you’re doing. You’re going to wreck this board. You wasted your money. This was too expensive! You should’ve got the cheaper one. You don’t do things like this. What if you lose interest and then you will have really made a big mistake? You should send it back to avoid all of these mishaps and redeem this terrible decision. 

And then the really low blows: You don’t deserve to waste time having fun. Who do you think you are? Queen of the water? You just need to stay home and write and paint and take care of your cats. That’s your life.

The thoughts were literally making me feel ill, churning my stomach with anxiety. Meanwhile my husband pumped up the board and asked me if I wanted to take it out in the morning. I said in theory, yes, I would like to take it out tomorrow. He said OK great, we’re going to strap it to the roof of your car. I thought oh no, that means I’ll really have to do it. 

It was late and we didn’t have the right things to tie it onto the roof so he said he would run to Walmart and get what I needed, or we could just wait. There was my chance, my out! But very quietly, I had just enough courage to say, Thank you, yes, please go get the stuff.

He was back in no time and we secured the board to the top of my RAV4. I kind of liked the way it looked in our garage. I had a meeting the next day which I canceled. I took a painting to the gallery early, to get that done. I stopped to buy a life jacket and a whistle and headed for the lake. I had no idea if I needed to put the board in where the boats go in, or set it in from the dock, but I figured it out.  

I felt the pressure to act like I had done this a million times before and I was a pro. I grew up with the belief that I couldn’t be new and inexperienced at anything. When I was, I was sure never going to let anyone else know it. But I gave myself permission to make mistakes and be an amateur. What freedom came from declaring out loud, I am an amateur. This is my first time. I don’t know what I’m doing.

During the two hours I was on the water, I got to know my board, which was slightly different than the rentals I had experienced, and I loved it. I experienced a different part of Old Hickory Lake and navigated the effects of the increased wind and current, and how to use those to my advantage. I paddled against the current while I was full of energy, then lay down on my back, taking in the sunshine and the gentle rock of the waves, and let the current return me to where I put in.

I’ve been on paddleboard maybe ten times now and I have never fallen in. I’ve been fearful of what that would actually be like, and even more fearful of trying to get back on the board out in the middle of the water. Some people really struggle with that. Navigating a sharp turn to practice that skill, I lost my balance and fell in. My glasses floated and my phone stayed dry, and I got right back up on the board. Now I don’t have to worry about that anymore!

I didn’t know how I was going to get the board back up on the dock by myself, but I managed that also. I have spent too much time fearfully pondering every possible pitfall of something. It doesn’t do any good to profess that I have faith and trust if I’m not going to actually put it to work in my life. I need to make a plan and trust the rest will work out. Some people need to be a little more careful and plan better, but I need to become a little more reckless and spontaneous!

Getting my board back up on the dock proved easy enough, and just as I was trying to remember which direction my husband had the board facing, someone stopped and asked, Hey do you want a hand with that? Angels everywhere! Solutions appear! I said, Sure that would be awesome. We lifted the board back onto my car, I got it tied down, and made it home. My first maiden voyage was a big success. A paddle boarding success, but much bigger than that, a life success. A statement that declares I am going to really live!  

On that note, that very evening, my son called and said Hey, do you want to go to Norway tomorrow? I told him he was crazy! He said, Maybe, but do you wanna go to Norway tomorrow?! I finally figured out he was serious. He has taken several solo adventure trips, and said he was going either way but did I want to go with me? 

I said YES! By the time you’re reading this. I will have enjoyed several days in Norway. For the first time ever, I’m going to travel with only a backpack. This adventure will teach me to question what I really need regarding possessions to live my life. 

Stay tuned! Openness leads to willingness, which leads to grand adventures. I hope this inspires you to say yes to something you might normally say no to. And I would love to hear about your adventures and spontaneous yes’s in our readers group. Bon voyage!