Jumping Into the Deep End

Looking down at the water, I was terrified. I felt a 100 foot drop stir beneath me…

Even though the diving board was only one meter high.

At a young age, I tried swimming lessons. But the pool petrified me. Between the pungent perfume of chlorine poisoning my nose and the frigid waters whirling in my eyes, I had enough reason to hate the water…

And then you tell me to jump off the diving board. Hell no.

Those first lessons made me miserable. I couldn’t swim yet, but the instructors still wanted to throw me right into the deep end.

You may not think that jumping off a diving board is tough. But you’re not a five year old who’d rather dance with the devil than get in that pool.

So, one by one, everyone hopped off that board into the instructor’s welcoming arms.

Except me. I never jumped.

After weeks of lessons, I never learned to swim.

Anytime I’d be with friends, they’d have the time of their lives in the deep end, playing those nostalgic games you loved like Sharks and Minnows.

I’d be in the shallow end alone, sitting on the steps watching.

It’s not fun being there when everyone else is in the deep end. You can try to join in on the fun, but at the end of the day, you’re missing out.

But we all have our wake-up calls and near-death moments that kick us in the butt.

Mine came one summer afternoon in the neighbor’s pool. I had been running around near the deep end. My fierce youthful courage flirted with the edge of the pool.

Then I got a bit too close.

Suddenly, water rushed over my head and completely submerged me, with my tiny toes five feet from the bottom.

Usually, mixing a kid who can’t swim with water he can’t stand in is a recipe for drowning.

But falling in forced adrenaline to surge through my veins and wake up a side of me I had never met. I waved my arms and soon enough had two hands on the ledge. I pulled myself out – not with skill but with natural animal survival instincts.

My near date with death held me back. I couldn't fully commit to learning how to swim. Until I was eight…

During a summer party, I chilled out in the shallow end while everyone else fooled around in the deep end. They played games and had a blast as I sat like a spectator in the bleachers.

Bored, I began teasing myself by inching closer to where the deep and shallow ends met.

Something kicked into that eight year old me. Without hesitation, I hugged the wall as I began doggy paddling into the deep end. Then I found myself treading water like a pro.

I was swimming. From that day on, I never missed out on another game of Sharks and Minnows. I loved the water more than ever.

I realize now why I never jumped off that one meter high diving board. The fact I didn’t know how to swim scared me.

Had I had the ability to swim, I wouldn’t have hesitated to throw myself off that board.

The water didn’t scare me. Not knowing what to do once I was in the water terrified me.

This notion is more prevalent in life than I expected. When fear holds you back as you embark on a new adventure, the adventure itself isn’t what terrifies you…

It’s the fact you don’t know what to do should you be unable to swim in its waters.

This newsletter took some courage to make. The writing aspect of newsletters didn't scare me. What freaked me out was not being able to see how this would resonate with you.

But I dived into this deep end, and I will never regret it. So next time you find yourself standing on the edge feeling like you’re about to jump into some deep, daunting waters, think about what really holds you back.