Just Dive In

When did you last wish that you were able to do something - but then did nothing about it? What prevented you? Fear? Lack of confidence? Lack of courage?

Faced with such a situation, how would you have completed the following statements?

'I want to...  but...'

'I wish I could...'

'If only...'

'I would if...'

'But what if...'

What if you always replaced the above with 'I want to and I'm going to...'? Even better, ask yourself 'Why not?' You'd do a lot less wistful thinking about things that aren't really that important and a lot more doing - of the things that matter - that you really want to do.

As a five-year-old, a swimming instructor forced me to jump into the swimming pool - well, that's how it appeared to me at the time. I was terrified and hated the man for it. However, I lived to tell the tale - one which I haven't forgotten in over forty years. Now, I swim most weeks, diving into the deep end and scooting around at the bottom of the pool, in water twice as deep as my height. I'm not a great swimmer but I wanted to improve and I wanted to enjoy the experience: having determined to do something about it, I now relish it.

Last week, my daughter's 10-year-old friend came swimming with us and her confidence in the water astonished me: although she cannot yet swim to the bottom of 11 feet of water, it didn't stop her trying - and if she thought of a new challenge to accomplish, she just tried it. She had the 'I want to and I'm going to' mentality that many adults are bereft of.

I have a list as long as my arm of things that I want to do before I die. Some of them are so important to me that I've attached 'I'm going to' after the 'want'. Others are still dreams which I have not acted upon. Still others, like this blog, are things that I've actually started doing. Having achieved that 'want', I now want to write a book - but I need to start saying, 'I'm going to'.

It's immensely satisfying to be doing something you wanted to do but were initially hesitant to begin. It's also surprising how unwarranted our fears turn out to be when we actually begin something. What a poor image we must have of ourselves if we doubt our ability to do something that is completely within our reach.

What have I done to become more of a 'going to' person?

Firstly, I'm much better at telling others what I want to do - this establishes a sense of accountability and, therefore, a need to say 'I'm going to' so that I can later report to those I've told: 'I've done it'.

Secondly, I'm also better at researching what it is I think I want to do: this either confirms that what I want to do is as important as I think it is - or persuades me that it's not practical and, therefore, no longer important. For example, I once wanted to work in TV production but a taster of it bored me to tears and that desire has fallen off my wish list.

Which brings me to the my third course of action: just try it. You have nothing to lose and, as I hinted at earlier, you may surprise yourself by your natural ability. Thomas Edison, the entrepreneurial inventor, famously said, 'If we all did the things we are capable of, we would astound ourselves.'

I do my best to encourage my two children to do something about their 'want tos': my daughter wants to play the harp: why not? My son wanted to play the trombone: he's just started having lessons at his school. They have bigger ideas as well and who am I to stand in the way of their dreams - apart from advising them to take the similar practical steps I described above?

What's on your 'want to...going to' list? What other things have you wistfully wished for but prevented yourself from attempting because of a 'But what if...' or other such discouraging question?

Be courageous. Be adventurous. Take risks.

Just dive in - what's stopping you?

Thanks for dropping by. Feel free to leave feedback or a comment.

Phil

Rhythm

Last year, our family went to see the Mugenkyo Taiko Drummers in concert. Watching these artists perform their astonishing Japanese drumming style is a breath-taking experience: The Glasgow Herald described it thus: ‘Drumming as an almost religious experience… exhilarating to behold.’ At the end of the concert, I spoke to one of the drummers and asked about the strength and energy levels needed to maintain such a frenzy of drumming - which they made look effortless. She replied that it wasn't strength or energy but focus, technique - and rhythm. By establishing a rhythm, they were able to maintain the levels of concentration required to carry a piece through to its conclusion. Clearly, this takes a good deal of practice but it is very effective.


My son and I are learning to play drums ourselves - the modern drum kit, not Taiko, in our case. My playing is extremely basic and I expend a lot of energy playing, so I clearly haven't developed the technique and stamina required to play a two-and-half-hour concert. But what has all this got to do with swimming - or life?


One thing I have observed whilst spending time in the pool is that what seems to make swimming appear effortless is rhythm - not strength. As with the Taiko drummers, get a rhythm going and you can keep going ad infinitum. I'm pretty sure this is true of life: those who seem to sail through life apparently effortlessly have established a rhythm, or routine, which keeps them going. Life is not chaotic, they do not stumble or muddle or juggle their way through the day; they maintain poise, control and stamina - like the Taiko drummers and the long-distance swimmer. Rhythm does not require energy or strength - it is practised and internalised to such an extent that the rhythm becomes part of who you are; hence, I guess, the Glasgow Herald's reference to a 'religious experience'.


Being a school teacher, I have to maintain a sense of rhythm and routine just to get through a lesson-packed day - otherwise I would fizzle out very quickly given the pace and intensity that characterizes every school day. Establishing organised routines develops a rhythm which sustains itself and therefore requires less energy to maintain. This reduces the intensity of the job and helps to create balance and perspective.


Swimming helps to maintain this balance: it gives me time out to relax, be physically active - and think. That, I believe, is an essential part of the rhythm of life but how many of us make time for this?


How do you maintain rhythm in your life?


What helps to sustain you?


What organisational tips could you share that help you to create balance and perspective?


Thanks for reading - if you are able to contribute to this discussion, please leave a comment.


Phil

Life is a swimathon and you have to keep moving

A couple of years ago, I started swimming regularly as part of a New Year's Resolution to improve my health and fitness. We are very fortunate to have a 30-metre swimming pool within five minutes' walk from home so there really was no reason why I could not easily achieve this part of my resolution. I did in fact swim 2 or 3 times a week for over a year - including Saturdays, when I would take my kids along.


Last year, a change in my job and my finances meant I wasn't able to get to the pool so easily and, for several months, neither I nor my kids went swimming.


2012 brought another new year and a renewed determination to maintain a healthier life style, so I managed a swim last week and will attempt to swim at least once a week (with or without kids).


What has this got to do with the blog title or anything, for that matter, that anyone is likely to be remotely interested in?


One of the incidental benefits of swimming, I found, was time to think and, as I swam and attempted to refine my style, develop my stamina and generally improve my overall performance in the pool, I began to see a number of parallels between swimming and the journey we call 'life' - hence the blog title.


So, 'life is a swimathon and you have to keep moving': being in the pool is pretty non-eventful if you just sit there like a buoy*, floating on the surface and not experiencing the thrill of a jump, a dive, a faster length. You need to propel your body through the water - no one else is likely to do that. You make the moves in your life: you decide how fast, how far, how long, how deep. However, the similarity between the pool and 'life' ends at the pool-edge: whilst I can hop out of the pool at any time, life goes on - like a swimathon - and it really is what you make it.


Someone once said, 'Life is not a dress rehearsal - it's the real thing.' (Google wouldn't tell me who...) and Robert Frost said, 'In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on.'


Many have reflected on 2011 in their own blogs, summing it up as a tough year and looking forward to better times in 2012. That may or may not be the case but, in any event, life goes on and, as you would in a swimathon, you just have to keep moving...


How's your swimathon going? What keeps you moving?


If you care to comment on the swimming analogy and offer your own perspectives, please do.






*There are times when you need to assume a stationary, floating position but that's another blog...