Time in ocean – 25 mins
Thursday was another fascinating shift for me.
I was accompanied by my friend Charlotte, and as we chatted in the water, I suddenly had a thought…we’ve been in here a LONG time!
It was one of those flow moments, as we so often experience during adventures, where time seemed to take a massive leap forwards, or stand still, or both.
One of the things I remember most about this particular dip was when the sun came out from behind a cloud, and for a moment we felt like we were sitting beside a roaring fire.
The cold of the water disappeared and was replaced by the warm glow of the sun on our faces.
It was a moment of genuine magic.
The initial cold shock has almost completely disappeared for me now. As has the discomfort of finding a time in the day to cycle to the beach and back.
What I’m finding is that this thing that was at first so scary and foreboding, and then so uncomfortable and challenging, has now become graceful and easy.
If you read my post a few days ago, you’ll know I’ve become friends with the ocean, with the cold.
As I reflect on my life, I can map this experience onto almost everything I have ever done that I have been afraid of.
The fear of the unknown.
The discomfort of change.
The joy of becoming.
I’ve talked about how one of the reasons I decided to do this was to model stepping into the unknown, to model saying yes to something when I didn’t know how it would work out.
But I haven’t shared one of the major breakthroughs that resulted in the decision to take the plunge.
I was afraid of myself.
I only realised this yesterday, while talking to a friend. But at some point, subconsciously, I came to the understanding that the only thing that was really stopping me from committing to myself was a fear that I wouldn’t be able to do it. That I wouldn’t find a way. That I would fail.
The fear I was experiencing had NOTHING to do with the challenge I was about to take on, it was entirely internal.
I went from that conversation yesterday straight into a coaching session, and right at the end of that call, another bombshell landed for me.
I don’t trust myself.
The discovery had nothing to do with the ocean challenge, but it has so much to do with my fear and insecurity around taking on this challenge.
It came up when Adam pointed out that I was asking him a lot if what I was saying made sense.
Boom. Tears welled up instantly. I left the call in a daze.
It plays out in EVERYTHING I do.
I seek out evidence to prove that I am untrustworthy, and find it. I create situations that prove to myself, if not others, that I can’t be trusted, which gives me a nice heavy stick to beat myself with.
I have work to do still to get to the root of this lack of trust in myself, this constant, nagging fear that I will ultimately fail at everything I do, but one thing I know is that I have put myself on a path where this ceases to be true.
This ocean challenge, this commitment to writing, this dedication to taking full responsibility for my experience in this human realm. These are all part of the journey.
By having the courage to seek help from powerful coaches, to ask difficult questions and challenge my thinking, I am one by one looking under every rock, behind every closed door in my consciousness in ways that are simply impossible to do on my own.
By deliberately stepping into the unknown and embracing what I find there, I am seeing all the ways I have created limitations for myself, and the more work I do, the more cracks appear.
It’s like a game of wack-a-mole. (That’s a discussion for a separate post!)
Drawing awareness to these cracks, filling them in and pulling them apart is a never-ending journey, a continuous stream of false summits.
Each time I reach one though, I get a chance to stop and look around, and even though there is further to climb, the view is so much better from here than it was down below.