Imodium and Rescue Inhalers

I’ve never been fearless.

I’ve never felt brave.

Yet I continue to find myself in situations that my former self (the day prior is enough “former self”) would’ve shirked away from.

The truth is:

It never gets easier. You just get stronger.

You get accustomed to the uneasiness as it takes residence in your stomach and flutters about, threatening worse than mere nausea.

You push through the doubts that swirl around in your head, making you dizzy with self-consciousness.

You simply act and hope that the confidence will come in the process.

You almost get addicted to the same adrenaline that caused you to panic and freeze the day before (dear ancestors: how did this not get you eaten by dinosaurs?).

You adapt, because truthfully, what other choice do you have?

Two days ago, I found myself grinning like a crazed maniac as I was on my 88th squat with more weight on my bar than I have ever squatted. I wasn’t even halfway through and you know what? I was enjoying myself. I was amazed at what my body is capable of. My quads were screaming, my heart was pounding, my sweat was pouring, but my mind was euphoric. I felt like I was being introduced to a new person – one whom I liked and respected. Not because of physical ability, but because of the risk to try something I initially looked foolish doing; because I decided one day to push my inhibitions, push through negative self-talk, and push my physical boundaries I had set up for myself, then push myself to show up the next day and the next day and the next.

Last weekend I signed up to train to teach a yoga-fusion class. Yes, me. Me, who a year and a half ago wobbled and tripped over her own two feet. Me whose flexibility was that of a dung beetle. Me whose fear of public speaking is only trumped by my fear of having to perform choreographed moves in front of a crowd. THAT me. It was just as scary and stretching and growing and shaky as I thought it would be. But FAAARRRR more rewarding than I ever imagined. Someone believed that I could do something that I didn’t believe I could do. Now, I get to be that voice of encouragement for someone else. I get to coach and believe and breathe and help others bring flexibility, strength, courage, balance, and rejuvenation into their lives.

A month ago, I strapped on weights (yes, to weigh me down to the BOTTOM OF THE OCEAN) and stepped off a perfectly good boat into the middle of the deep blue OCEAN. Now, I say “ocean” instead of “sea” because sea connotes something peaceful and tranquil. Au contraire!  It is the friggin’ endless expanse of water that is boundless and untamable and just…BIG. No land in sight, just “water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink” (but plenty to drown in) – get it? Good. Oh, and we won’t mention the plethora of sea critters that have teeth or spines or poison or all three. But I stood there “shakin’ like a leaf” on the edge of that boat and stepped into the abyss (melodramatic much?). Granted, I panicked a bit during many aspects of my misadventure, but I saddled up anyway (Thanks, John Wayne). There is a certain glory in experiencing a world in which your body was never meant to survive. No, I didn’t feel like a graceful mermaid; more like an awkward astronaut who’s trying not to pass gas in her suit (what if gas bubbles get trapped in my stomach and can’t decompress?! Will I get the bends?!). But do you know what? As all these fears were running laps inside my cranium, I was hit by the miracle of what I was experiencing. It was beautiful! AAAANNNNDDD I started crying. UNDERWATER. THROUGH MY REGULATOR.  

...only you, Courtney...only you...

I’ve been changed and challenged by torrents, by furies, by whirlwinds. My roots are deep. I’m still standing.

I’m not the same fear-stricken girl I was a year ago.

(At least, I wouldn’t use the word “stricken” per se)

Oh yes, I fear many things:

heights and depths;

the expanse and the enclosed;

being in the spotlight and being forgotten;

being in a crowd and being alone.

But I’m going to keep showing up afraid and messy because I don’t want to come to the sunset of my life still wondering: “What am I capable of?” 

May I not cross the threshold knowing that there is still life left to be wrung out and shaken from this bag of bones and coat of flesh! I want to stand before my Maker with my hands empty, my feet dirty, and a spark in my eye.

I want to know that I let love lead me instead of fear. Because at the end of the day, that’s what it comes down to, isn’t it?

Love or fear.

Do scary things, my friends. Push yourself.

Travel. Write. Go on blind lunch dates. Adopt. Join an art class. Learn to salsa dance. Explore the crevices of your own soul.

Live abundantly the life that has been given in abundance.

But you’ll have to excuse me while I pack a bottle of Imodium and my rescue inhaler.