“What would you do if you weren't afraid?”
― Sheryl Sandberg, Lean In: Women, Work, and the Will to Lead
Before I started the IceFlow class, it had been 13 years since I’d been on the ice, so now stepping out onto the ice still scares me a little. My natural instinct is to stiffen and I don’t trust my muscles to remember. I still find myself feeling shaky and tense. And nothing feels natural. But as I continue moving and gliding across the ice I eventually become aware that it’s gotten easier. My muscle memory takes over. My knees bend into the ice. I start to relax into the edges, trusting myself to take them deeper. It’s the doing, the turning, the trusting, and the leaning in to the fear. And although I have not yet in this class, I’m sure that eventually I will fall. Of course, when we trip and fall, we learn soon enough that it’s always the leg that stiffens and resists that breaks. Often, our resistance only makes things worse.
As I deepen my edges, lean in, and relax into what is still feeling uncomfortable and scary, I am reminded of when Becca was 12 years old. We were on vacation in Mexico. She was relaxing and reading a book in the sun by the resort pool when a man approached us and casually asked if we were interested in a scuba diving experience. Was I? Um, no. But then Bec chirped us and said “I am!”. My immediate knee-jerk reaction was “not a chance”. “Pleeeeeze!?!?”. I looked at my husband. I looked at her. I looked at this young, handsome stranger. We were in a foreign country. She has autism. She’s TWELVE! He said “let’s first see how she does in the pool, no charge.”
I exhaled and accepted the pool test. I took the man aside, and explained she had autism. And anxiety. He looked me squarely in the eyes and said “I’ll make sure she is ok.” Becca eagerly did the pool test. She aced the classroom test the next morning and then another pool test the following morning. I googled the company. I googled the instructor. I talked to him again. I emailed his references. I signed release forms. I inhaled. I exhaled. I leaned into my fear. The next morning, they left….my little girl and this stranger. And I waited for their return.
And this is what greeted me three hours later.
And so I take those edges a little more deeply and with a little more trust in myself and the universe. Like everything living, we open and close, as we both lean into life and resist it.
Elin holds that space for us to move, to inhale, to hold, to lean in, deepen our edge, and exhale. And then to do it again, and again. And when we do that, we open ourselves to beauty. We learn to trust. We find our rhythm. We fly.
PS - For those who want to see the whole glorious scuba experience, click here. Wait till you see the surprise and spectacular sighting at the end!
