I Dive No More but I Don’t Care

Funny you should ask.

I was just thinking about confidence or, more specifically, conquering fears, inspired by listening to Jeremy Renner read his book, My Next Breath, A Memoir. In the book, he describes in terrifying detail, the moments when a 14,000-pound snowplow ran him over, very nearly killing him at the base of the long driveway at his mountain retreat in Nevada during a snowstorm that had closed most roads and made rescue slow and chancy. He recounts every wheel, every tread, his bones cracking, his eyeball coming out of its socket, and then, in the immediate aftermath, the struggle he undertakes to breath. It’s gruesome.

In the recounting, he talks about a lifetime of very consciously identifying and tackling various fears. He picks a big one to start. Sharks. Now, I think a person can have a fear of sharks and have a perfectly fine life. Like just don’t go where sharks are. That isn’t hard. Hang out on the Great Lakes – a lot of water, great surf, and no sharks. But Renner decides he must conquer his fear of sharks by learning to scuba dive and then, of course, swimming with the sharks.

This made me think. I cured my fear of sharks and other large creatures swimming in the sea by looking at oceans and swimming in pools. This resolution came after spying a nurse shark (which grew in length each time I told the story) while snorkeling. Oh, nurse sharks never hurt anybody, oh sure, but I saw Jaws and so I swam to shore fast enough to create a wake. That was it. Done with shark fear.

The fear I landed on after I listened to Renner read his book was my fear of diving into the pool. Now I have dived into a pool before. In high school, I was part of a synchronized swimming club that did water shows. In one show, I, along with four or five other girls, dove in a synchronized fashion (of course) off the side of the pool while wearing – pay attention here – a leotard and tights with fringe along the sides. It was a Davy Crockett theme. What the heck was the song?

Anyway, I can’t imagine diving in wearing all that gear or diving in naked for that matter. I can’t imagine any circumstance in which I would dive into a pool. I lack the confidence to dive into a pool. Who cares, you say. I don’t. I’m just making conversation.

You can find me at the shallow end of the pool, dangling my legs over the side, fixing my goggles, arranging my swim cap, and then standing in the waist deep water for a good four or five minutes and then finally, as they say, taking the plunge by starting into a breaststroke. And it is that moment that I despise most – my chest and arms hitting the cold water. It’s so shocking.

So, that’s my answer. I am not the most confident person I know. Maybe I used to be but I’m not anymore.

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Photo by Jess Zoerb on Unsplash