On The Other Side Of Fear Is… Swimming!

Ms. Kimmy comes to our house every Wednesday morning to teach the boys how to swim. They scream and cry their way through the 30-minute lesson while I hold back tears (sometimes without success).

It’s painful to see my children, who I’d give my own life for, experience so much fear and resistance: quivering lips, shaking arms, anxiety poops, fingers that reach out and grip the closest adult, eyes searching our home for mom, dad, or grandma to relieve them.

Instead of sweeping them out of the pool, we wait inside for 30 minutes, hidden behind the closed curtains and tinted windows, watching the lesson unfold. Grandma wants to run out and rescue them. I want to take away their pain. But because I know these lessons are good, even critical, for them, I hold back and let my heart break a little.

Then my heart begins to swell. I see my little 2-year-old head down swimming for Ms. Kimmy with newly learned strokes. He roars like a lion “YEAH!” when she asks if he’s ready, but cries in between breaths, then offers a high five (which his developing vocabulary strings together to call a “hive.”)

My 4-year-old shakes as his toes hang over the edge of the pool. He looks right, then left, considering a jailbreak. But he’s tried this before and Ms. Kimmy caught him. She made him do two extra jumps into the pool for his attempted escape trick, so he decides against it.

With fear on his face he jumps in, then swims with force to grab the edge of the pool and pull himself up. I notice a new level of power in his glide that wasn’t there last week.

This continues for 30 minutes, until the lesson comes to an end. My two-year-old is done first, and runs to me crying. As soon as I pick him up, though, he plasters a smile on his once-distraught face and says, “swim!” We kiss and hive.

My four-year-old takes on his final exercise.

“Watch, watch!” he yells to us as he considers another jailbreak. We watch him jump then swim to the edge, and cheer him on as he joins us at the side of the pool. He’s still shaking with nerves, but there’s a look of accomplishment and satisfaction on his face.

I am so proud. Proud to a place of tears. And also tearful because there’s something about clinging wet swimming gear that shows just how big my “baby boys” are getting so quickly.

I am proud because they felt fear but summoned their courage and strength. This is one of the most critical lessons in life, and here they are learning it at 2 and 4 years old.

Oftentimes the things that will serve us the most in our life (like swimming lessons, making a change, investing in ourselves, forgiving someone, having a hard conversation, etc.) scare the bejeezus out of us. But on the other side of that fear is magic.

On the other side of fear is love.

On the other side of fear is connection.

On the other side of fear is strength.

On the other side of fear is the balanced life of your dreams.

When fear shows up for us, we need to ask ourselves what this fear really means? Does it mean we should run as fast as we can in the other direction away from the thing that scares us? We often want to respond this way, but if we instead practice mindfulness and explore what that fear means, we can make better decisions in our life.

As we uncover all the feelings that fear disguises, we learn that oftentimes on the other side of fear is joy.

Let’s hope my boys remember this lesson next Wednesday.

Your turn. Journal or contemplate on the following:

1.Where has fear come up for you lately in your life?

2.Close your eyes. Put one hand on your belly and one hand on your heart and envision the experience in your mind.

3.Feel the emotions that are coming up and stay with them, feeling the physical affects they are having on your body. Don’t run or numb out.

4.In your mind ask, “What are you trying to tell me?” Then listen with an open mind for the answer. Keep repeating this question and listening whole-heartedly until you have all the clarity you need.

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