I don't know what happened.
Maybe the beach was pulling me there, I don't entirely know.
I just wanted to take myself, and this time, be in the water.
Usually when I take myself to the beach, I don't wear swimmers because (a) I worry about my vaginal health/breathability being in swimmers for so long and (b) I only ever want to dip my feet in, but today was different. Today I wore my swimmers, simply with the intention of allowing myself to have choice over whether I stood in the water or not.
I have been scared of the ocean, and any body of water actually, since I can remember. I know that I was not born this way, as we are born of water, but that my fear was both conditioned by helicopter parenting and by genetic trauma on my father's side--one of my uncles or aunties had had a swimming accident and scarred my Dad in the process. On top of that, I'm not entirely sure my father swam much at all as a child.
This fear was strong--my body would shake, my heart would palpitate, my mind clouded only with fears and what could go wrong. Until today.
The scene from The Little Mermaid II came to mind while I sat on the beach looking at the waves roll in. It was the scene where Ariel, as an adult and mother, stands on the shore letting the water wash over her feet, takes a deep breath of relief and feels completely at home.
I wanted a taste of that feeling and I also had this feeling that toe-dipping wasn't going to do it justice for me today.
I moved my bag and towel closer to the lifeguard flags and also beside a family under a tent, so that I could feel safe enough to switch off my mind of worrying about leaving items on the beach and surrender completely to the ocean.
There was no hesitation. No fear. Some light "what if's" about jellyfish, the Stradbroke crocodiles and sharks--all of which derived from either lived experiences or stories I saw on the news--but I didn't attach to those thoughts, nor keep them running.
I wanted to be SUBMERGED in the water. Once I was standing in the water, I realised I'd have to go further out if I wanted to be fully submerged and wade in the water on account of the waves breaking where I stood.
I had no intention of putting my head under the water either, except that a huge wave came as I was moving forward and it was so big I had to duck under it. My necklace, my hat, my hair--all of it wet. And yet, for the first time, I didn't care.
I saw out past break point, near a woman and her daughter. The water was cool and refreshing. The sun was warm. My whole body felt at peace. Behind me I saw three oldies with boogie boards, excitedly yelling "look! Here one comes! Here we go!" and I basked in their joy, chuckling to myself and thinking "I want to be having that much fun when I'm their age."
I laid back and floated. Not for long, but long enough to feel weightless.
Bliss.
I saw a fish keep flip-flopping out of the water.
I saw other people as far out as me just enjoying BEING.
It was exactly what I needed.
And for the first time in history, I was able to enjoy it long enough to notice those beautiful moments.
I've never experienced that before.
I usually always go in with someone else, IF I go in the water at all.
I usually have lots of trepidation and fear. Not today.
Today it was different. Wholeheartedly, something had shifted inside of me, without me even knowing.
And so healing can happen without conscious thoughts or action or realisation. Healing can just HAPPEN, especially when you stop thinking about it. It gets to be that easy.
And perhaps it came from experiences in the creek over the past few months. My husband and in-laws love getting in the creek behind our house either to cool down or to kayak. And I, with the same water-related trepidation, was scared of the creek. Yet I got in, fear, stress and all...
Since I'd been at the beach last, I had conquered those other fears--not getting rid of that fear itself, but by surrendering to the experiences that frightened me, by letting myself go kayaking or get in the creek repeatedly without backing out, letting myself fully be there, finding ways to open, soften and learn how to feel safe (even if I didn't feel entirely safe in the moment) and even ENJOY myself.
Learning how to feel safe does not equate to being fearless nor does it mean safety either.
When on or in the creek, I often still have light fears in the form of a very mild anxiety or dread-filled thoughts, and I find that each time to the kayak and the water the more relaxed I get to feel. The more I enjoy it. The more subtle my nervous system and those fear-based thoughts. More at peace.
And so perhaps in conquering and embracing one fear, so too did I unknowingly conquer another.
If you're going to take anything from this post, it is that healing is a process that is always trying to occur.
You will be given opportunities to face your fears in big ways and in small ones, in obvious ways and in subtle ways, and all you can do is embrace it.
Say yes.
Jump in and learn how to hold yourself in those moments.
Don't give up.
You are strong.
You are brave.
You are more powerful than you think.
And one day, you will wake up, be cruising through your day and suddenly realise in the moment that that which once scared you is no longer holding you back. It might even be bringing you joy. You are free.
Ash xx
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