Swimming With Sharks

Bega Lagoon, Fiji Coral Coast - Bull Shark

 (Photo taken by R Jackson)

Growing up I was terrified of the ocean. It's fair to say that my parents, especially my mother (sorry Mum) nurtured that fear unwittingly. Growing up in Tasmania, trips to the beach were not really that frequent, but occasional swims in the river still provided enough conditioning for a pretty good water phobia. Fear of deep water, fear of seaweed and fear of sharks. 

Mum had me convinced that sharks leapt out of the water to eat dogs off jetties and were lurking just below the surface of every body of water, deeper than a meter (the old hungry ones) ready to make us their next meal. I also feared getting tangled in seaweed and drowning, being hit in the head and drowned by floating logs...the list goes on.  Mum was clearly nervous about water and understandably so, her little brother drowned when she was a child.  We learned to swim in the pool and I managed to do my bronze medallion as a teenager, but the ocean remained a source of mystery and most of all anxiety.

Fast forward 30 years and I meet my now husband. He loves the surf, the ocean and SCUBA. Apart from his amusement at me being dumped by tiny waves because I wouldn't venture out past my waist. He was adamant that a world of beauty and possibility would be opened up to me if I'd be open to conquering this fear. At first I didn't really see the need to take that leap. The land, even the sand,  was a perfectly nice place to admire the ocean. I could read about or watch documentaries about the world below the surface without ever venturing there. 

What eventually changed my mind was a desire to foster my husbands passion for watersports and to overcome my own fear so I did not pass it on unwittingly to my children.    I was then open to the possibility he might be on to something. Then he bought me a SCUBA course for my birthday. Shit got real! I did the course. I quietly panicked my way through my open water certification, the emergency drills, the night dive (yes people dive under the ocean in the dark!!!) and then followed it up with my Advanced Open Water. I even dove with Seals of the South Coast of NSW. Seals!!! Then in a moment of overconfidence I booked us on a Shark Dive in Fiji. Yes that is right, I committed to going diving with the source of my greatest fear...real sharks. Not just one dive but four of them and a night dive in the very same water. At least the ocean was warm in Fiji, so peeing my pants would not be so obvious. 

Sitting on the dive boat that first morning was one of those moments in life when you are sitting on the threshold of something big. When you know that in a few minutes life will have changed forever and there will be no going back. I felt sick. I felt scared. I wanted to run. The good part about SCUBA, like so many of those adventurous pursuits is that you have drills to follow. Safety checks, buddy checks, checklists of steps that ground you, that help you to focus, to be present and to BREATHE. The number one rule in SCUBA, just keep breathing. Sitting on the edge of the boat with my back to the water, all those thoughts from all those years of fear were there, "what if...", but as I listened to the instructions, focussed on the voice of my guide, focussed on the excited face of my husband, and listened to my breath, I was ok. I held my mask and my BCD, and I fell back into the ocean. 

As we descended within the group all I could think about was "keep breathing, just keep breathing". It was surreal. It was unexpected. It was beautiful. It was empowering. That first dive was all that and more. I thought the first time would be the hardest, but it was actually the second dive that was the most difficult. Because I knew then what was beneath the surface and while it was very different to the "story" I'd told myself all those years. Now I realised that the reality was equally fear inducing...if I let the fear overwhelm me. "Just keep breathing". We did four dives in total. We saw a LOT of sharks. We even dove in nearby water at night. I did it. I faced my fear and I did it. 

I haven't done SCUBA now for 4 years due to having and raising babies. I will SCUBA again soon. I'm sure the same fears, the same thoughts and emotions will trouble me. I will again have to observe that fear and make room for it. I will keep breathing. I am no longer irrationally afraid of the Ocean. I respect the danger it can present. I love it's beauty and I frequently swim out over my head, despite the waves and the seaweed. I enjoy the surf with my husband and the children. 

"The challenge is to swim with that fear, to get to know it better and sometimes to just breathe."

Swimming with sharks did change me. That moment that I fell back into the unknown. I experienced fear and I did it anyway. It gave me insight into fear and anxiety and how debilitating it can be. It taught me to let go. It taught me to take risks. It taught me to trust in others, in my husband, in the ocean. It taught me that sometimes accept the fear and breathe. It has made me a better psychologist. Because everyone has a "shark" story, a fear that holds them back from time to time. A fear of failure, of rejection, of pain, of the unknown. A fear that has a life of it's own and can stop you from enjoying life. The challenge is to swim with that fear, to get to know it better and sometimes to just breathe.

RJ 

When life is too straight just add curls.

This week I quit my day job. For the last 5 years I have been working as an executive level Psychologist in a large government department. I have really enjoyed the role. The people are great. I have lots of work to do. Plenty or autonomy. Plenty of responsibility and respect. It meets most of my core values, including contribution and connection. Resources are tight but not disabling and it was a very well paid and secure position. So why did I resign?

Two days ago I walked into my supervisors office to break the news. It was one of those conversations I'd refer to in coaching as a 'crucial conversation'. The stakes were high and emotions were strong. It was the first day back on the work calendar and my boss, who I admire and like opens with "Happy new Year  - Great to have you back!" My response: "Great to be back...but I need to Leave!" And I hand over 12 weeks notice. That afternoon I'm summoned to my Senior supervisor and given 30 minutes notice for the meeting. I can feel the cortisol rising as I rehearse the conversation in my head. I've role played this conversation with my husband in the week before but I can't seem to remember my lines. I begin to panic, what the hell...why am I doing this? It's comfortable here...the work is pretty interesting...people like me...I like them...the money is good...I have lots of autonomy...the supervision is light...gulp! I could stay here...I'm comfortable....oh no!

"Adventure begins outside your comfort zone" 

Why is it that we have the tendency to wish for our curly life to straighten, but then panic sets in when it does? To understand this we need to look to the science of the "comfort zone"

The Comfort Zone

Yes we have a human urge to keep things safe and comfortable. But, I'd argue only to a certain tipping point.  The science of the "comfort zone" is well documented and empirically tested. Simply put, your comfort zone is a behavioural space where your activity and behaviour fits a routine pattern that minimises stress and reduces risk. This is not a bad place. The idea comes from a classic psychology experiment conducted by Yerkes and Dodson (1908), which explained that a state of relative comfort (pattern, routine, arousal) created a steady level of performance. In order to maximise our performance however, we need to be pushed just beyond our comfort zone to a space labelled "optimal anxiety." Too much anxiety and we are pushed into the danger zone where we are too stressed to be productive and performance declines rapidly. This experiment has been used to explain human performance in all sorts of domains, including sport and work.  The comfort zone is not inherently a bad or a good thing. We all need that place where we are least anxious and stressed, where we have routines and patterns that bring us back to an equilibrium. Where we recuperate after periods of high intensity or stress. But I'd argue (like others) that you can't reside there permanently. It's like laying by the pool on a holiday it's relaxing at first and then after a period of time it becomes boring. There comes a point when breaking free from the comfort zone is necessary if only to remind you of it's comfort. Personal and professional growth do not occur when you remain in your comfort zone. It occurs either through adversity or stretch when your comfort zone is abandoned temporarily. Some people use extreme sport or adventurous training, they climb to amazing heights, leap off things, swim with sharks or fight bulls...others test the limits of fitness or endurance...entrepreneurs engage with financial risk and innovation. There are others still who test their comfort zone through more destructive means by engaging in high risk sexual behaviours, substances, or who self-sabotage when they become bored with the status quo. Then there are those less extreme but equally frightening steps we all take that are tentatively beyond our comfort zone but when taken can change the course of our lives.

Yesterday we had a collective staff training day. The morning started with introductions to everyone in the Branch. At this point about 5 out of the 60 people present knew I'm resigning. The introductions get to me and I say "Hi I'm Rebecca and I am the Psychologist...pause...for now" My senior supervisor then takes his cue and announces that I'll be leaving in 3 months. There is a collective gasp and then a collective sigh for the audience.

The collective gasp.

I think the collective gasp was shock. Shock that I was going. Shock I was challenging the status quo. Shock that in this fiscal environment I would venture beyond the relative financial security of the public service into the great unknown. Shock that I wouldn't be replaced in the near future and that would leave even more work to be distributed.

The collective sigh. 

I'd like to think this is reflective of the great interpersonal relationships I've established with my colleagues over the past 5 years. I think that's certainly part of it. But I also detected something else...was it disappointment?  Later conversations over coffee and in the corridors confirmed a few of my reflections. This is what the reactions above boiled down to:

1. Congratulations. What a brave step.

2. So you are deserting us. Now what will we do?

3. I wish I had the opportunity to leave. You are Lucky.

4. I should have taken that step a long time ago. Now it's too late. 

5. All the best. We'll miss you. 

These reactions; admiration, disbelief, disappointment, fear, excitement, hope, and regret were all more than I'd anticipated, yet they mirrored some of my own feelings. My own emotions had been tested in the month before as I grappled with the decision and many of those responses were common to my own thinking. Leaving my comfort zone is a thought that excites and terrifies me in equal measure. As I close my office door for the last time in April I'm sure all those reactions will be flooding over me. I hold onto the notion that beyond my comfort zone is where the adventure begins. I'm looking forward to reflecting back on this post in the months to come. Its frightening but important. The status quo is a nice place. It provides security, significance, autonomy, contribution and routine. But there are other values that I also choose to live by including;  continued growth, variety, adventure, creativity, family, balance and challenge. To dance beyond the confines of my own comfort zone brings joy, excitement and fear. It adds some curls.

RJ

Title image by Paulo Zerbato

http://fineartamerica.com/profiles/paulo-zerbato.html?tab=artworkgalleries&artworkgalleryid=8230

What if you fly...

Happy New Year! 

No doubt you have wished and been wished this in the past week. It fascinates me that with the New Year comes a reckless joy where minds are free to dream. To contemplate the start of another calendar year and the endless possibilities that a fresh diary or crisp clean planner conjure. We see the New Year as a blank page to write fresh stories or a clean canvass to fill with paint. At no other point in the year do we collectively spend as much time mulling over goals, resolutions, values or priorities. 

Like many, I have done this too and decided that rather than a list of goals or resolutions this year I will keep it simple. I have chosen 3 words to focus on:

Create. Recharge. Contribute. 

There is a power in these three words, which I have not felt in long lists of personal goals in times gone by. Is it because powerful things can be captured in 3 words....I am sorry... I love you...I am pregnant...? Or is the simplicity of 3? Ascetics favor groupings of 3, I am a mother of 3.... Whatever the reason, I have chosen three words to guide my year. 

Create. We live in a society fixated on passive entertainment and increasingly invested in the virtual or vicarious experience. Few people have jobs that show us the tangible results of our efforts and less are able to have creative autonomy. In my opinion, it leaves a gap in how we live and how we exercise our innate creativity.  Through evolution our humanity has demanded we create stuff for survival. Our Paleolithic ancestors were creating jewelry from eggshells and bone fragments. They were sewing clothes with animal sinew. They formed vessels and wove baskets. They created paints and dyes. They chiseled spearheads from metal, bone and shells. They meticulously whittled shafts for the most aerodynamic, accurate spears. They designed vast stretches of nuanced cave art. As anthropologists suggest, these inclinations toward craft and artistry were selected for. They increased the survival chances of individuals and their communities. A skilled spear maker added obvious value. Yet those who could design jewelry or other adornment introduced “material metaphors” and “social technologies” that enhanced relationships and identity within communities.  Today, Western society has largely segregated art to an aesthetic corner. But I’d argue this is insufficient as creativity and art are essential to mind-body awareness, emotional growth, personal and community identity and therapeutic diversion. In short it makes us happier and healthier.  I have recently re-discovered my creative spark and want to fan those embers throughout 2015. Whether it’s creating meals from scratch, growing food and plants, recycling, art, handicrafts, or writing, I will focus on making and designing and creating.

Recharge.

This reflects self-care, balance and motivation. It’s about doing something every day that recharges my batteries. Breath. Walk. Drink more water. Stretch. Exercise. Get more sleep. Eat nourishing foods. Be mindful. Play more.  Spend time outdoors.  Spend time with my husband and children. Connect with nature. Sounds simple but is harder than it looks when that curly life gets in the way. Do something everyday that recharges the batteries.

Contribute.

This for me is linked to my core values. Contribution has long been a value that informs my personal and professional life. I have done charity and community work in a range of settings. I volunteer. I chose a helping profession. I teach. I coach. This year contribution will extend beyond my family and friends and work. I will find new avenues to contribute to my community and the environment. For me this is non-negotiable. It is why the need to recharge and create balance is so important so there is energy for contribution. To me it is such a core part of who I am and how I interact with others and my environment it has to be included.

So there you have it. 3 little words with big impact.  These three little words are helping me to make a big decision. To challenge the status quo and to dream bigger for myself and my family. But although big decisions are scary, what better time to make them than the start of another year, when the calendar is empty, the diary pages crisp and the smell of possibility fresh in the air.

”What if I fall? …But darling what if you fly?”

So to you I say, “Happy New Year” (also 3 simple, powerful words). What will you do with it. What is your dream? What if you fly? What are your three little words?

I look forward to sharing my decision with you soon. 

RJ x