Just saying hello this morning. I’m thinking about all of you. This began as a Facebook post, but that didn’t quite feel right so I’m here instead. Checking in. Hoping you’re practicing some self-care. Listening to your voice. Nurturing your heart.
I’ve started a masters swim team and I’m swimming with some amazing people. Many of the women on the team are my children’s coaches. They’re remarkable and I’m very grateful for their company and coaching.
It’s so nice to not be swimming alone. Doesn’t that line say so much? I have to write it again: It’s nice to not be swimming alone. What a metaphor for life and for this space here, The Counter Stool, where I’ve invited you to pull up a chair and sit with me.
I’m grateful for you — one year later — for joining me here and supporting me and each other as we strive to be our best whole-selves.
In the pool, I’m working on changing my swim strokes. To be more efficient and fluid in the water. Balancing strength and speed with being smooth and steady. In order for me to do this, I have to slow way down. I have to feel my body moving in the water and constantly check myself. It’s an interesting thing, to slow down in order to move forward. To tune in to ourselves to see where we’re at. Are my hand placement and head position correct? Am I finishing my stroke all of the way or is my hand exiting the water too early — making me inefficient?
I’ve been swimming for years and I swim well enough, but I’m discovering that there is so much to learn and improve upon. It’s incredibly exciting. These changes won’t happen over night. They’ll take time and repetitive practice. And like all changes, they’ll be harder to implement when I’m fatigued and weary. I’ve come to know that I’ll never truly have swimming mastered. I will always be working on my strokes. I will always be working on myself. It helps to have other people encouraging and supporting the changes I’m making.
One of the coolest things about being on this masters team is that even though many of the swimmers are coaches, we’re all working hard on our technique. We’re doing the workouts together but we have our own individual things that we can work on and improve upon. The coaches embrace being corrected and instructed by each other. They see it as an opportunity to be their best-swimming-selves. They ask questions. They examine. They watch each other. They discuss. They’re continually working on tweaking their own strokes. On growing. Stretching. Improving. I love this. I do.
Let’s hold on to that. The idea that there is always an opportunity to learn about ourselves and that there is no shame in needing and wanting to improve. It’s actually a wonderful gift to ourselves — being open to change and to growth. We could look at this as failure or as inadequacies — but that’s so far from the truth. There is no shame in wanting to get to know yourself better and to be better.
I’m also working on my website. I’m needing it to be more than it is right now. I think this is because I’m diving in to some deep inner work and I’m processing my trauma and abuse all of the time now. I’m also gearing up for another Ironman. And of course, there’s Rob’s health as well. All of this feels like a lot and I’m discovering that I need you here. With me. A community of supporters, swimming through life beside me. Each of us together as we navigate and negotiate life separately. I don’t feel as alone as I plunge deep into my discomfort and fear. I’m less frightened about experiencing my heartbreak and shock about being abused for so many years as a child if I can share it with you.
Having you here makes me feel less afraid. Protected. Safe. You do that for me and I thank you for that.
Stay tuned for the changes at The Counter Stool. Stop by and let me know what you think about things. I’d love to hear from you. I’ve linked the places you can find me on social media; I’m busy over there throughout the day. Come visit!
Much love to you all. Swim together. Encourage and support each other. This is important stuff we’re doing — living bravely and being seen.
Categories: Tri-Umphant Living