Tyler almost drowned at the wave pool.
I looked up from my book * to see Tyler prancing up with a lifeguard close behind. He stood in front of me, my 9-year-old shivering skinny little boy with soggy trunks clinging to his thighs. You wouldn’t know to look at him now that he was the fattest little baby; chunky thigh rolls, knuckle dimples, fat kissable cheeks … swoon.
I got the whole scoop; Tyler was floundering in the wave pool, got bumped unexpectedly by an inner tube, and a lifeguard jumped in to save the day. I just needed to fill out our information on their form, and life could go on.
We laughed, we joked, all was well.
Then the lifeguard walked away, and Tyler’s demeanor changed. His lower lip started to tremble. I asked him if he had been scared; he said no. Oh no, worse than scared?
I asked him if he was embarrassed, and the tears began to flow.
You see, he couldn’t possibly get back in the wave pool after EVERYONE had seen the lifeguard save him. They’d laugh at him. They’d call him the boy who couldn’t swim! They’d make fun of him!! Even the LIFEGUARDS would know!
I tried reassuring him. I tried changing the conversation. I tried offering a snack. The tears kept flowing. Finally his eyes lit on an empty inner tube, his chance to float in the wave pool without having to touch his brother, and he pranced back to play in the water.
In that moment, I envied that skinny little boy. I envied his carefree spirit. I envied his resilience. I envied his ability to get past his fears and embrace his joy.
Confession: I was sitting on the sidelines of the wave pool because of my own embarrassment. I wasn’t in the water with him because I didn’t like how I looked in a swimsuit. Is that a zit on the back of my jiggly thigh? What if the other moms laugh at me? What if they make fun of me!! So I bring a book and play the role of the studious, responsible mom, armed with healthy snacks and water bottles for everyone.
How different would my life be if I didn’t let my embarrassment, my fear, keep me from doing the things I so want to do?
A couple of years back, our family went camping with another family at a lake. The water in the lake was much lower than usual, exposing a tree stump that was perfectly situated for jumping into the water. Everyone jumped, gleeful and silly. It was cold yet exhilarating, I was informed. Why don’t I jump too? Nope, I couldn’t possibly. What if I screwed up? What if I looked silly? What if people laughed at me?? Besides, I didn’t even bring a swimsuit, so that was a perfect excuse.
They kept jumping. They stopped asking me to join them. And them giving up on me was sadder than me giving up on myself.
I don’t want my kids to think of me as always being the boring, responsible mom. The one who makes sure everyone has a jacket, a water bottle, and snacks. The one who is so busy taking care of everyone else that she forgets to have fun and live a little.
So I stripped into my bra and panties, and I jumped into that lake.
On that day, I didn’t let fear win. On that day, no one cared that my thighs jiggled. On that day, no one made fun of me. I let loose and NOTHING BAD HAPPENED!
I could stand to learn a few lessons in bravery from a 9 year old kid.
What challenges your bravery, and how can you embrace a bit of bravery today?
* A.J. Swoboda’s Subversive Sabbath; highly recommend!