It's Memorial Day Weekend. So far my activities have consisted of waiting in a long line of happy vacationers headed to the islands as I returned from my trip, and bringing my things in from the car during dry patches between rain showers. It's colder than usual for this time of year, and it hardly feels like the kick off weekend for summer vacation season it's supposed to be. My plans for the weekend consist of refinishing a dresser recycled from my old house and some Olympic paper shredding. I need to get a life.
Several weeks' worth of mail in hand, I get ready for the paper shredding. I usually toss all bulk mailing right away. But the picture on the front cover of the Island Rec Summer Program Guide catches my eye and I take a minute to look at it. All sorts of prejudices run through my mind. "This catalog is for young people", I think to myself. I envision a banner that reads "Sports Enthusiasts Only!" As I open to the first page.
Years ago, I spent some time meditating the direction of my life at a Trappist Monastery in Oregon. When I consulted with one of the monks about how I might overcome the panic attacks that had taken over my life, he had a very simple suggestion. Why don't you try some new stuff. He said we have to try things if we want to find new interests. New interests are life affirming and are good for the soul, he said. You won't know until you experiment what could be a whole new area of interest for you, something that could prove to be very healing. It was on my retreat to the Trappist Monastery I began to write.
I'm thinking of that sunny day in the middle of nowhere now, as I think of how I've been spinning my wheels for the past few months. The same feeling of fear I had then creeps back in as I think of how scared I was when I showed up at the Monastery. That familiar little edge of fear I feel as I contemplate the need for new direction now. Change is scary. But change has been a necessary part of my life. I don't know why. Not everyone needs as much change as I've needed. I've given up analyzing it. I just know it to be true. Unless I continue to change, I stagnate. And stagnation feels like torture to me. We all go through life in our own way.
Yes, I'll be getting a job or starting a business soon. That will be interesting and challenging. Yes, I still have plans to build myself a tiny cottage as soon as I can get that going. Yes, I have lots of irons in the fire when it comes to writing. But I can feel it right down to the soles of my feet. I need more. I need some new interests. I need something different in my life, and I don't know what it is yet.
So I flip through the Island Rec Catalog. I see some walkers in the picture that accompanies the description of the Friday Harbor 8.8K Loop Run. Hey, I know those people. They look like they're having fun. I read the description. Oh, it's linked to the San Juan County Fair. Well, that sounds good. And participants get a T-shirt and entry to the Fair. Well, I definitely want to do that. Something to aim for, 8.8K. If a kilometer is about five eighths of a mile, then that's about five miles. I can do that.
I'm avoiding the sailing page. I know it's in there somewhere. Me, a sailor? Yikes, I'm too old, I think. I don't know the first thing about sailing, and I'm not a good swimmer, I think. Then I remember the IOSA class where I learned it's not the water that will get you, it's the temperature of the water. Somehow I feel better. Like hypothermia trumping drowning is a good thing? But at least I'm starting to challenge my negative thoughts. I think my friend the monk would approve of that. Challenging negative thinking it turns out can be very good for panic attacks. I learned that as part of my recovery. It's also good for overcoming fear when it comes to learning something new.
There's one thing I fear almost as much as hypothermia or drowning though, when it comes to learning how to sail. It's the fear of looking foolish. What would my friend the monk say now? What's a bigger problem, looking foolish, or sitting amongst the dust bunnies in your house doing nothing for fear of looking foolish? Those monks, they always have a way of challenging one with questions that have no good reply except the one they want you to give. Even the monks in my mind.
As I continue to peruse the catalog, I think, Yes, I'll go to Music On The Lawn. I'll do the 8.8K walk. I may even sign up for Frisbee Golf. But none of those things have the one element needed to shake me out of my comfort zone and into something new. No, but sailing does. What's the element? It's fear my friend. It's fear. Ironically, all those years ago, a big part of overcoming the paralyzing fear that had a grip on my life, was doing things that scared me. And believe it or not, back then, writing something I cared about and showing it to others was a pretty scary proposition. And look where picking up the pen that day ten years ago has taken me. To a place where I feel passion, doing something I love. But I had to take that first step. I had to try stuff.
And here I am again. Needing to try stuff. "Isn't going out on twelve first dates by July 4th scary enough?", you might say. Well, yes that is scary, but not as scary as sailing. And that's saying something because dating is very scary. Do I have what it takes to give it a go? I don't know. I just know one thing. When I've held onto fear instead of stepping into it in the past, it's overtaken me. That's what panic attacks felt like. Like being swallowed up by fear. And I refuse to let that happen again. Not if I can help it.
It's Memorial Day Weekend, the kick-off weekend of Summer. It's gray and gloomy and yucky outside. That oppressive weather that dragged me down all Winter. Well, damn it, I've had enough, Northwest weather. I refuse to let you bring me down. I'm going to try some new stuff. I'm going sailing. Even if it scares the daylights out of me and freezes my buns off. Even if I feel as old as the hills and as un-athletic as they come. Yes, it's time to try something new and scary. And… there's one other thing about trying something new...it beats the heck out of Olympic paper shredding.
© M.E. Rollins
No comments:
Post a Comment