Nothing is more
traditional as the year draws to a close than to begin working on a list of
goals for the coming year – your New Year’s resolutions. They may be personal
or professional, but they are usually things you know you ought to do but for
some reason have never found the motivation to see through.
The new year is a clean
slate, a new beginning. We summon up all the good intentions in the world and
psyche ourselves up to get a running start. Right?
I’d like to suggest a
very different approach, inspired by the way 2013 ended for me – it’s not just
about how you begin the new year; it’s also very much about how you conclude
the old one. And I suggest you conclude the old year by doing something that
scares you to pieces.
Let me explain.
This year my boyfriend
and I decided to celebrate the holidays in southeastern Baja, along the coast
of the Sea of Cortez, as usual. It’s a very popular kiteboarding destination,
and we’ve traveled there often with friends.
I don’t kiteboard, but
my boyfriend and our friends do. Year after year I’ve strolled the beautiful
beach watching the dozens of colorful kites split the beautiful blue sky as the
surfers raced this way and that along the choppy water.
I’d routinely be coaxed
by our friends (as well as other boarders) to take lessons, but my response was
consistent: Thanks but no thanks.
The sport scared me. And
this was no abstract fear; I’ve crewed on sailboats on San Francisco Bay for
many years, and I have a very healthy respect for the power and impulsiveness
of marine wind. There are stories of careless kiters being dragged through
parking lots and down into kelp forests. The idea of strapping myself to a
15-foot-wide kite and launching it into 20 knot winds had “Not gonna happen”
written all over it for me.
But this year, after
hearing “you really need to try it” for the 47th time, and with the
encouragement of my boyfriend (who’s been taking lessons) I finally decided to sign
up for lessons from a school I trusted.
Why? Two reasons: first,
I might actually like it – if I didn’t, then I could point to my lesson and say
I tried it. And second, I finally accepted that my fear of it was in fact an
argument on behalf of giving it a try.
Doing something scary
does not mean doing something dangerous. I knew from talking to my friends that
if I tried this sport I’d get the best lessons I could find, and use the
latest, safest equipment.
I signed up at a school
I was familiar with, and made my reservations clear to my instructors, as well
as my mediocre swimming abilities. I knew I’d have a sleepless night the night
before, and I did. It goes with the territory.
But I went to my lessons
with a positive attitude. I told myself, no matter what happens, I will at
least have the fact that I faced my fear as a small personal victory.
The lessons were very
challenging, to be sure. My first day was not so
successful - fatigued, I had to abort
the last water practice half way through - but my second day was completely
different. I succeeded, and got enthusiastic raves from my instructor. I
actually could do this, and more importantly it was wildly fun. As I reflected
on my accomplishment, I realized my fear had vanished and was replaced with an
indescribable serenity and a real appetite for the next challenge – like
nothing I’ve ever felt before. If only every new year could be turbo charged
like this!
Conquering a deep fear
gives you a sense of power like no other. And the rush of good feeling that
follows is akin to endorphins; you can’t wait till your next accomplishment.
What scares you?
Surprise yourself by conquering it. Your list of goals for the new year will
seem eminently more achievable overnight.
1 comment:
"What scares you? Surprise yourself by conquering it. Your list of goals for the new year will seem eminently more achievable overnight."
Very well put!
Mark and Cindy - s/v Cream Puff
www.creampuff.us
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