Swimming
It is never too late to challenge myself to learn something that scares me
The first time I had a swim lesson, I was 36 and in the midst of all my fears, I naturally panicked. Repeatedly gulping water as I tried to gasp for air. Splashing and slipping on my own two feet as I pulled myself under over and over again. When I finally got a hold of myself in the water and felt my breathing even out, I sheepishly asked my instructor what was she saying. She looked me straight in the eye and said in the most pleasant voice: “I was telling you to stand up. You’re in three feet of water.”
Another time I had a swim lesson, I spent it mostly blowing bubbles with my hands on the side of the pool. Face in the water whilst blowing bubbles, turned my head to the left side so my face was partially out of water as I breathed in through my mouth, face back in the water to blow more bubbles, and so on and so forth while my instructor said both words of encouragement and of critique on the velocity of my bubble blowing.
Yet another time, I floated on my back. As I stared up at the gym’s ceiling, I marveled over how my body hadn’t folded in on itself yet. I wondered why everyone didn’t just lie on their backs when they were tired, wondered why treading water was the go-to strategy for staying afloat. I felt so weightless but also supported.
And yet another time, my instructor Desmond asked: “how about we not use the buoy?” The “we” here was obviously me. He wasn’t in the water. I voiced my doubts, stalling for time. He replied back that I could stop and stand up whenever I got tired. Annoyed at him for teasing me, I freestyled a lap of the 25 meter pool without much effort and heard the sound of his applause when I lifted my head out of the water. Honestly, a supportive and challenging instructor is truly the best.
I’m not entirely sure where my desire to learn to swim came from. In 2022 before I resumed my swim lessons, I had been near a pool twice and only got into the water once. During the heights of COVID, I had a recurring nightmare of an apocalypse happening and living in Brooklyn surrounded by water, I felt I needed swimming skills. Yes, I’m very logical, I know.
This past week, Hal and I were in Aruba which is in itself delightful. (Sun and sand for a whole week, baby!) As I frolicked in the ocean, I realized that while my fears of the water hadn’t completely disappeared, I was able to quiet that fear and just enjoy the water. I floated on my back. I swam, freestyled, tread water, and did some breaststrokes. I dove to explore the seaweeds. I enjoyed myself in the coastal waters of Aruba.
Swimming is so liberating. In the ocean steps away from civilization but in my own little bubble, I felt the serenity of all the water offered. It was delicious. And I can’t wait to do it again.
