Jumping for joy after a beautiful day on the last day of my second retreat week in St. George Island. (More retreat pics below)
I’m back from my two weeks of Paint, Paddle & Play retreats in St. George Island, Florida. They were wonderful, despite the weather challenges we experienced, which I wrote about
last week. (If you missed Gifts from Hurricane Francine, click here.) I have another lesson from the beach to share with you today.
It's embarrassing to admit, but ever since the shark attacks a couple of months ago in the Florida Panhandle, at beaches where we have often taken family vacations, I've been a little anxious about being in the ocean.
During the first week in St. George, the rip current was too dangerous, so unfortunately, we were not able to swim or wade very far into the water, other than to get our feet wet.
Late afternoon on the last day of retreat week one, after all the ladies had gone, I was ready to relax by the water, to rest and renew myself in
preparation for another group of ladies arriving in two days.
I put my bathing suit on and planned to sit in my lounge chair at the ocean’s edge to read, but decided to take a walk first, which made me hot. The
weather was mild and the rip current had eased, so it seemed like a good idea to get in the water to cool off before starting to read.
The fear was real and though I tried, my brain couldn’t talk my body out of my anxiousness. I knew I was going to have to confront my fears by taking action and just do it anyway. I love the ocean far too
much to let fear steal that gift from me.
Because of all the storm activity, a lot of seaweed was constantly washing ashore. Standing in the water ankle deep, seaweed and other small debris would suddenly brush against me, adding to my jumpiness. For a split-second, I thought, “Forget about it, I'm just gonna go back to my chair. I'm too scared!”
But I became more determined than ever to not let fear beat me. I've loved the ocean my entire life. It's my sanctuary, my place of renewal. Plus, how could I keep doing ocean retreats if I let my fear of being in
the water grow?
Fear rarely stays the same. It grows or shrinks, depending on what we do or don't do with it.
I realized the reason there was so much seaweed and chunks of wood touching me was because I was standing at the shallows, where stuff was continually washing up and churning around me.
If I wanted to get past the junk, I had to get past the junk.
I had to be willing to go deeper:
Deeper into the water.
Deeper than my fear.
Deeper into courage.
I only needed to be brave enough to go out four feet to be free of all of that
chaos at the shore.
I prayed for courage, plunged ahead and did it, and it was wonderful. The cool water felt so good and the fearlessness felt even better. Courage and action are always the antidotes to
fear. The sooner we take courage, the better (before fear has a chance to grow).
My newfound bravery took me to a much better place than where fear had me stuck.
Fear kept me battling my nerves in the shallow water, with debris grazing my body in an unpleasant, powerless way. Fear can expand into additional paralyzing behavior such as victim-thinking, like “This is happening TO me,” making it personal and thus, even bigger.
Courage to go a little farther out, a little deeper, actually made me feel safer. And victorious. Triumphing over fear is a great feeling, which breeds more courage. We just have to take that first step.
Where are you stuck in the shallows?
Where do you need to go a little deeper to shed your fears and get free?
Start moving! Take a step—any step.
A definitive action in the direction opposite of our fear response tells our bodies that our wills are stronger than our worries. Our confidence increases as our bodies relax and we release tension.
When we choose courage above fear, we go from being constricted in body and mind, to a state of expansion. And expansion is where all our gifts are waiting.
