the diving board.

I recently finished reading Big Magic and boy is it truly life-changing. I'll talk more about it in my July book recap but while reading I remembered something and wanted to share it with whoever will listen... The memory came back to me in a quick spurt and then left me thinking about it until... well, now! The whole ordeal took place over a span of maybe five minutes from a summer years and years and years ago but during the time, it felt like it took at least a few hours (relativity, I tell ya!).

I can't tell you exactly how old I was, but I know I was somewhere between 9 and 12. It was in the deep depths of summertime and I was in Louisiana just as I often was during my summers growing up. The whole family loaded what we needed in the back of the car and we drove off to camp. It was a weekend filled to the brim with fun and I wish I could remember more details from it. (*side note* I've already decided that I will force writing upon my future children. I don't care how naive that sounds... it's something that I wish I would've done more of as a child (regretfully, my parents also bought me many diaries and journals to write in... I did not heed their advice)). Anyway, it was deep in summer and we all changed into our bathing suits and made our way to the seemingly gigantic swimming pool. It was "L" shaped with the deep end and shallow end perpendicular to each other. The swimming pool was equipped with two diving boards, a low one and to my nervous excitement, a very high diving board. I already knew how to swim above water at the time and my dad was teaching me how to properly hold my breath underwater so that I could accomplish swimming both above and below the water.  

While swimming with my brother and sisters, I watched as my dad climbed the dozen or so steps to the top of the high diving board. While at the top he waved to us and then we all watched him jump into a free fall towards the deep end below. It was enthralling! He went from waving, to jumping, to splashing, to being right back in front of me within seconds. It was an entire experience and even an adventure to me. One that had me horrified at the thought of. But, before I knew it, there I was... Climbing those same steps. I got to the top and was immediately filled with regret over my decision. I looked at my dad who now appeared to me miles and miles away and then yelled as loud as I could that I didn't want to do it and that I was going to come back down. I remember very clearly, to this day, my dad looking at me and telling me to remember what he said about holding my breath and to jump. He'd be waiting there at the bottom for me. I turned around to climb back down and to my surprise, there were at least 10 people either waiting on the steps of the diving board, or formed in the line at the bottom all wanting to be where I was. I nervously turned back around towards the pool and with my best, pitiful little girl face I looked at my dad and then the lifeguard. My reaction was fearfully screaming for someone to help get me out of this... Within no time, I had at least half of the crowds attention in the pool, waiting in anticipation to see what I was going to do... If I remember correctly, I think there might have even been some cheering from those strangers. If anyone was annoyed then they surely didn't show it... I walked back to the edge of the diving board and looked down at the water below. My dad, wading in the water and still reassuring me that he'd be right there and reminding me to plug my nose. 

"Just jump, nae!" 

1... plug my nose 2... squeeze my eyes closed 3... deep breath 

I did it. I jumped! 

I jumped and then while under the water I opened my eyes and could see how deep I was... I shot back up to the top and swam over to my dad. It was terrifying and rewarding. I accomplished something in that moment that felt unachievable. I still remember this like it happened just last week. Those are the types of memories that stick with you and this one in particular still brings a heavy smile to my face from a moment of risk followed by celebration.

I want to bottle it up and keep that sensation of pure excitement when I do something I didn't think I could do. Sometimes I think that there's no longer the innocence in taking certain risks where you can't celebrate as much since being an adult is unanimous with maturity, but why would we stop?

Some celebrations are to be expected (getting married, buying a house, having a baby), but we should also remember to celebrate the small victories.

It looks high, and sometimes the water doesn't always look as soft as it is when you're in it... But you plug your nose, squeeze your eyes closed and you jump. Just don't forget to have a moment underwater where you open your eyes and take in what you're accomplishing as the moment is happening.