Something New

 Learning to swim at 36 was delicious—I think, in part, because progress was so measurable. I started awkwardly practicing two, then three consecutive strokes in the shallow end. Then four, five. Swimming that first full lap in the slow lane—on my 37th birthday. Then slyly moving to the medium lane. And then finally called over by the swimmers in the fast lane, “Get over here! You’re ready.” Yo.

I signed up for swimming lessons* at a time when I was slowly emerging from crippling anxiety. Weekly lessons at the pool down the street were only part of the process. Practicing in between gave me focus and routine—and a community of characters at the local pool. (Visit any place a few times and a whole ecosystem emerges. Sometimes I choose to observe, sometimes I take part.)  

To have to focus on breath—so as not to choke, gag, sink—leaves no room for thoughts. 

Quick inhale through the mouth, slow exhale out the nose. Again. Again. 

All the while coordinating in new ways with limbs, with face in and out of water. A true liberation for the anxious mind: To hear nothing but my breath.

For me, new learning and new experiences in general are an absolute non-negotiable. Yes, I need routine and structure. But if I am not pursuing new skills or ways of thinking or knowledge or interests or people, then my brain—and spirit—are not getting the stimuli they need to prevent and manage anxiety. 

Anxiety, I am grateful for the motivation. For me, this is one of the clear examples of how I am richer for having to face you. 

*Want to be inspired? Witness adults learn to swim. I watched Ayan—who at our first lesson had never been in deep water and was afraid to get in the pool—swim a smooth, steady lap three months later on the last day. The ordinary superhero is who adds colour to my life.