Category Archives: Decisions

Gettin’ In The Water

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One afternoon last week, my three grandchildren and I piled in the car and drove up to the neighbor’s for a swim in his pool. We plopped our towels and other paraphernalia down and prepared to enjoy the inviting crystal clear water. I watched as the three children excitedly approached the pool. I watched my grandson gingerly putting a foot into the water at the first step and immediately pulling it back onto the sun-warmed cement deck. “Ooooo. That water is cold,” he giggled before trying once again. Our teen decided to sit on the edge and dangle her feet in the water to get acclimated before taking the plunge. This back and forth activity went on for quite a while…first one body part and then another. Perhaps, they thought, going slowly, bit by bit, would be the easiest way to get fully submerged in the cold, but enticing water.

The middle child walked confidently away from the steps to the side of the pool. She adjusted her goggles, took a breath, and then just went for it. In a seven year old’s version of a cannon ball she was immediately wet from head to toe, and after regaining her breath, momentarily stolen by the frigid water, was soon paddling around like a little otter while the other two were still trying to work up the courage to actually get in.

When I was younger I might have opted for the dive-in method, but now it takes me longer and longer to get into the water and adjust to the temperature. With age and experience comes caution. I’ve experienced that shock of frigid water and I carry that memory with me. I want to get in the water; I mean, what’s the point of swimming if you only wade in up to your knees, but yikes! You can put it off, but if you’re going to swim, sooner or later you’ve just got to get past the tender bits and duck beneath the surface.

As I exercise my decision-making muscles, I recognize that I make many choices in much the same way. Sometimes I make a cannonball determination. I run forward, pull my knees to my chest, make a huge splash and displace a lot of water. There’s no turning back and there’s no second-guessing. You’re in baby! From head to toes you’re fully committed. On most occasions I’m more of the toe in the water kind of gal; moving slowly toward a decision while weighing every possibility, each step deliberately taken, hesitating momentarily, yet still moving forward down the path toward the beach.

Prince Edward Island, 2018

Several years ago, three women friends and I decided to spend a glorious summer day exploring some of Vermont’s nude swimming holes. Yes, you read that correctly.

Interestingly enough, in Vermont, it is not illegal to be nude in public, but it is illegal to disrobe in public. You can leave the house without clothes, but you can’t take them off in the public square once you leave your house. Skinnydipping is not only permitted in some cases it’s encouraged and expected. Most kayakers I know have at one time or another stripped down on a hot summer day for a quick dip. Getting back in the boat can be a challenge, but trust me, it can be done.

We are always looking for new adventures and nude swimming certainly seemed to fit the bill. It was absolutely something none of us had ever done before. There was a limit to our bravery however and we were only interested in swimming where the bathers would be limited to the four of us and even then there was discussion about whether we’d go in sans undies or not.

All it takes is one brave soul and before you know it you’re at the edge of the pond in the all together, wrapped in a towel, trying to figure out the most discreet way to enter the water. I stepped to the edge of the shore and before I could give my modesty and my entrance any consideration the gravel beneath my feet began to slide and I was propelled backward on my bum and sliding with great rapidity into the drink. No time for uncertainty or indecision. Within seconds, I had lost my balance, my towel, and the internal argument of should I or shouldn’t I. I was in and after the initial shock it was quite delightful.

Skinny Dipping in the Mill Pond
Summer About 2010

I know the adage about not making any hasty decisions when your partner dies…give yourself time to test the new and unfamiliar waters…but a few weeks ago when I decided to sell my house it didn’t seem rash or unwise since Dave and I had been weighing the pros and cons of it together for a long time. It was definitely not a cannon ball leap toward something new. For months it was absolutely a toe in the water situation. Until unexpectedly one day it wasn’t. Without even realizing I’d made the decision I was suddenly at the pond knowing that the gravel was sliding and so was I…feeling vulnerable, exhilarated, scared, and excited. Yep, I was going for it!

“Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.” 

John Lennon, “Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy)”

Whenever any of us stand and contemplate whether to get in the water or remain on the warm deck, it’s good to remember that most likely the worse that will happen is that we’ll get wet and maybe a little chilly. As I prepare for my next adventure I know that if the water’s too cold or I’m getting a little too ‘pruny’ I can always get out, towel off, and see what else I can find along the shore or maybe I’ll just grab a beach chair and just sit in the sand for awhile.

Standing at the Irish Sea
June 2015

Jump!

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“When it feels scary to jump, that is exactly when you jump. Otherwise you end up staying in the same place your entire life.” —

Oscar Isaacs as Abel Morales in A Most Violent Year

While walking through the park the other day I watched a group of little girls running along the top for five picnic tables which had been arranged in a long straight row. The elevation of the tables provided added excitement and the girls giggled with the sheer delight as they dashed from one end to the other and back again. As I got a little closer, I noticed that there were two little girls standing at the end of the last table in line. A girl in a pink and white sundress stood on the ground while her friend remained at the edge looking down at the ground. “Jump. Jump,” the one in pink implored, but her friend hesitated. I wanted to stop and ask the one considering the jump what she was thinking. What was she weighing in her little mind? Was it the distance from table to grass? Was it the fear of a hard landing? Was it peer pressure that caused her to consider jumping in the first place? I walked on while the hesitation and the cajoling continued, but I’ve thought a lot about those barefoot girls in their summer dresses.

Summer Morning
Star Island, 2019

About fifteen years ago my sister, Kelly, invited me to join a group of women on a white water rafting trip down the Gauley River in West Virginia. The morning of the promised adventure the eight of us, in various sizes, colors, ages, and levels of fitness and only loosely connected by a shared relationship to my sister, climbed into the raft together.

The first test came when our guide, young Captain Mike, who at that time was still under the impression that he was in control of a boatload of middle aged women, informed us that we were approaching Jump Rock. “This is Jump-Rock,” he said in his most authoritative voice. “It’s not Climb-Up-There-and-Decide-Rock. Once you’re out of the raft there’s only one way back in. You have to jump.”

I’m usually pretty timid about such things and I hate heights, but as I gazed up at the cliff face I suspected that the tenor of our entire adventure hinged on this decision. I was going to climb up there and jump. When the others who were hesitating saw me…old, chubby, and out of shape…preparing to make the trek up rocky path to the top they too gathered their courage and we all jumped off that rock.

She took a leap of faith and grew her wings on the way down. 

David Brinkley

I suppose you could call my jump…holding my nose, my eyes squeezed shut, and yelling all the way down…a minor leap of faith. I’d watched others do it before me. I was confident in what lay ahead. I knew that eventually I’d hit the icy water, sink momentarily beneath the surface and then pop up gasping for air and, I imagined, feeling exalted. It took a fair amount of courage on my part to move from tera firma, but in doing so I was given the wings of self-confidence, fearlessness, and moxie. From that point on we were bonded; we were invincible! That day was one of my peak life experiences. I sometimes wonder, would that have been the case if I’d remained in the raft and merely watched?

White Water Rafting
Pixabay Photo

Often of late, I find myself standing at the edge of what feels solid and comfortable contemplating whether to jump or not. The loss of my partner has also meant I’ve lost a part of who I am or at least who I was when I was part of a team. I am trying to discover, create, or at least identify who am becoming. That journey involves risk and taking chances. Sometimes the metaphorical jump is just a matter of going to the movies by myself, walking into a restaurant and asking for a table for one, or checking into a hotel and only needing a single key. Do I jump or do I stay in the boat?

A Soft Day in Scotland, 2014

On a trip to Scotland in 2014, Cousin Doug, coaxed and teased me into taking a short hike up a. steeper than I’d like, hillside to see one of Rob Roy’s hideouts. I wasn’t planning to hike that day and was ill prepared, without proper footwear, or my hiking poles. Then it began to drizzle. it was Scotland after all. I was soon wet, tired and the trail had turned to mud. Oh, the evils of peer pressure!

I finally convinced Doug that I was in beyond my skill level and needed to turn back. Taking a different…supposedly shorter…return route we came to a very small stream…a trickle really…that Doug hopped over effortlessly.

“Jump,” he said. “You can do it.”

“No, I can’t,” I replied.

“Sure you can. Just jump.”

“Jump into the middle of things, get your hands dirty, fall flat on your face, and then reach of the stars.”

Ben Stein

Moments later I lifted my head from the mud where I had landed face first, to see my sweet cousin convulsed with laughter.

Life presents us all with choices. Do we stay with what we know or do we take a risk and discover something new? Do we jump and learn to fly or are we content to hang onto the branch for a while and enjoy the way it sways gently in the breeze ?

“The sparrows jumped before they knew how to fly, and they learned to fly only because they had jumped” 

Lauren Oliver, Liesl and Po

The real leap of faith is learning to trust ourselves to know when it’s right to step off and when we need to stand firm. It’s perfectly fine to wait on the edge, contemplate, and step back for a while or to decide not to jump at all. No one is ever forced to climb Jump Rock and we can always just wade through the stream or we simply slide off end of the picnic table. Then again…flying is pretty cool and if you get a face-full of mud it makes a good story.

Jump or not…the choice is ours.