I started swimming lessons when I was five or six years old. My older sisters could swim and I wanted to swim with them. Instead I had been stuck holding my mother’s hand at the edge of the surf as I watched them run into the ocean. They would laugh and body surf until my mom could tell that their lips had turn blue from the rather cold water off the coast of Maine. They would be shaking and shivering, insisting that they were not cold. Swimming lessons would let me be with the big kids.
I learned to swim fairly easily and moved through the classes from tadpoles to beginner swimmer. In middle school I took a junior lifesavers course. I was scared to take the course because I knew my secret would come out: I could not float. Being able to tread water and float were requirements for getting my junior lifesavers certificate. I could tread water quite well, but float? Whenever I tried – I sank. I could do the dead man’s float – head, face, and belly in the water with arms and legs stretched out but float on my back without going under – impossible.
I had all kinds of reasons in my mind as to why I couldn’t float. I was a small person – not quite five feet tall and then barely 95 lb. That must be why. Perhaps it was because I had such small breasts or too big of a butt, my thirteen year old mind concluded. Whatever the reason, no matter what I tried, I could not float. I would start out OK with my body straight out in front of me and my head back. After a minute or so, my legs would sink, and then slowly y torso, though I tried frantically to keep it from happening, my face would fill over with water and my head would go under. Before I knew it I was the object of the lifesaving lesson. I did somehow make it through the class but was told never to try to get a job as a lifeguard.
As years went by I found that swimming was not my favorite active. There was some connection to not being able to float but there were other things. Swimming meant getting wet and often in water that felt cold to me. When I could be in the tropics with warm weather, warm winds, and bathtub warm water, I loved to swim. Anything colder than 85 degree water is too cold for me. Since I live in the Northwest and indoor swimming pools are never that warm, I don’t often swim, and so I gave up ever hoping to float.
A few years ago, while talking with a friend, I shared my inability to float with her. “ I can teach you to float,” Jan said confidently. “ You’ll love it –it’s the most wonderful feeling.” I assured her that it was not possible but that made her even more determined. Jan swam almost every day and loved the water. “ I will teach to let go – that’s the most important part of floating.” Suddenly, a chord deep inside of me was struck.
“Letting go?” I don’t let go of anything. Friends often joked that my tombstone would read: “She finally let go…maybe.” I chew and worry and try to figure out anything and everything. Yet I yearn to let go – to relax and I try to little by little. Maybe this learning to float thing would be a step.
We met one morning at the municipal pool near Jan’s house. She was chatty and upbeat. I was struggling to get into a bathing suit and trying not to run out of he locker room or throw up. Goose bumps came up all over me as Jan described the wonderful feeling she got while floating . She loved to float in the sea and watch clouds pass by. I listened, tried to imagine what she was talking about and shivered. We made our way through the mandated shower before going out on the pool deck. There we climbed down into the water. My teeth were chattering as much from fear as the chilly water.
“The key to floating, Jan said, is to reach your arms out an up and relax into breathing. When you stretch out your arms it raises your lungs so you can breath more and – float” With that she demonstrated and a big smile of contentment came across her face. “You have to keep breathing too, holding your breath will not work”. I tried to do as she said, really I did. Finally for a few brief moments I floated, sort of. I did it! I didn’t sink! “That’s great! Now you just have to practice and relax and you’ll start really enjoying yourself,” my friend said as she ended the lesson.
I knew she was right. I knew it in my bones. Letting and relaxing into floating or work or life has always been a challenge to me. Building faith and letting go of worry comes when I breathe deeply, stretch out my arms to life and I trust.
And yet – I still feared the water and really couldn’t float like I would like. Here in Hawaii a group of women went out swimming the first week I was here. Unlike the pool we swam out over 1/3 of a mile. The water depth was 30 feet or so. I swam comfortably with a snorkel discovering that I enjoyed swimming so much more when I didn’t have to pull my head up and over to get air. Just the help of the snorkel was such a gift to my enjoyment. We got out to a point where a boat was anchored and I figured I would rest by holding onto the boat. I had swum more than I was used to and tired. But I couldn’t really reach a lace to hang on and then I panicked – I would have to tread water or FLOAT to rest.
I will also remember to loving women who surrounded me as I told them I really couldn’t float. Sure I had for a moment with Jan, but I never practiced and I was in far deeper water. They held on to me, tried to help me float but my butt keep sinking as it always had. Finally they did show me how to calmly tread water – to float upright so to speak. That really helped but still I was sad about my anxiety and fears in the water. I really wanted to float.
Two days ago I went out on a snorkel trip with a friend here. I had a plan. I knew on these chartered trips that they provided everything. So when it came time to snorkel, I put on a float belt and got in the water. A calm came over me that I never experienced in the water- not deep water. I could float! I was buoyant! It was so wonderful. I knew why other people enjoyed the water so much. I lay on my back and floated around when I wasn’t looking at the most amazing fish. I could stop and talk with my friend without fear.
With the help of supportive friends and the help I need personally, I float. I float on the currents of life and I let life and God carry me. When I was 12 and needed glasses to see, I didn’t judge myself for needing help to see. I don’t need that now either – or ever. I need the support of friends, to listen to what I know is true for me and to find the help in whatever form I need it to enjoy swimming or anything else. Sometimes I can learn something without assistance, sometimes not. If I can keep the goal in mind, I will find a way and most often that way has to do with getting help from things and people.
