Take the plunge
But…alligators. (State Library and Archives of Florida)
I went swimming the other night. (Yes, I swim at night — being a pale creature, it is best for me to venture out after the sun disappears.)
Anyway, the pool was unheated, which always presents a challenge for me. I’m fascinated by the tension of that moment when I can visualize myself swimming but haven’t actually jumped in yet. At any time, I could simply immerse myself in the water. It’s entirely up to me whether I am swimming or stalling. Swimming is a lot more fun, once you get over the momentary shock of the cold (which, in truth, is fun in its own way, too). But will it be now? Now? How about…now?
Standing on the diving board in your bathing suit is a call to a very specific action. If you don’t take it, you have to scoot backward on the diving board and back yourself down the ladder, which is by far the least impressive way to leave a diving board.
However, there are other moments of tension that are more subtle or practically invisible: When you feel an impulse to move to a new city. To text a new friend for the first time. To start lessons in guitar or ballroom dancing. To start a family. To look for a new job. To buy a set of paints. To have a difficult conversation.
Lots of these impulses can be easy to ignore. You can keep them buried for decades. You can hide behind the accomplishments of a friend or family member or keep yourself busy with relentless commitments. Everyone will notice your choice to get up and dance at the wedding, but the choice to stay seated is safe, unobtrusive, and literally unremarkable.
That’s why a pattern of such choices is actually dangerous. You can get to the end of your day or your year or your life without doing the things you want to do or being who you want to be -- and not even realize it until it’s too late. No one will say anything unless you happen to be starring in a feel-good romantic comedy where some quirky character shows up to shake up your staid existence; otherwise, it’s up to you to make moves toward change and growth.
“Carpe diem” advice is overwhelming if you’re used to keeping your world small and manageable. It’s beyond cliché at this point anyway. But I have these things to say about how to get from where you are to where you want to be, if you’re not quite where you want to be:
Listen. Julia Cameron, in her book The Artist’s Way, recommends making a daily practice of writing, longhand, each and every morning in order to uncover the truth of what you really want. When we’re listening for them, we begin to receive little nudges from our deepest selves that make suggestions to us. “Go for a walk.” “Take a different way home today.” “Buy something new at the grocery store.”
Many experts on creativity, including Cameron, suggest disconnecting from various forms of media in order to better hear these whispers from our inner self. But that’s not always necessary. I teach my students that they can feel free to take breaks and wait until they are in the mood for their schoolwork, as long as they are listening for that moment when they are mid-Fortnite and say to themselves, “I’ve done this long enough -- I’m ready to get back to math now.” To hear that voice and act upon it is a triumph, and it gets easier the more you practice it.
2. Start small. It’s easy to get overwhelmed by the big shifts you think you need to make, but practicing the small ones will give you confidence while also changing you and your life, however subtly. So practice plunging into the cold water, speaking up when you get the wrong order at a restaurant, and going to bed five minutes earlier than usual. It will pay off.
Tim Ferriss suggests “comfort challenges” in which you deliberately do things that are benign but purposely uncomfortable, like initiating conversations with strangers. A more moderate approach is to study the wisdom contained in Robert Maurer’s excellent book, One Small Step Can Change Your Life: The Kaizen Way. What is the tiniest step forward you can take? Do that.
3. Be gentle. The shame of being the last one to jump into the pool can be painful. And your self-consciousness intensifies the shame and fear as each moment goes by, in turn increasing your self-consciousness, creating a feedback loop that leads to paralysis. It’s no fun to go through it — or to watch helplessly as your kid goes through it.
The way out is to be gentle and compassionate. It’s okay to be afraid. It’s okay to step back. It’s okay to say no. You’re okay, you’re safe, and you don’t have to leap — at least, not right this minute. Your worth as a person does not depend on your ability to take this specific action.
Once you lower the stakes, the shame goes away. That’s often the moment that we can say to ourselves, “What the heck,” and do the thing.
Taking bold action is not always necessary, and it’s not always the way forward. Sometimes, patience is the challenge we face. But we will find fulfillment and satisfaction when we have the courage to embrace the tension and dive in when the moment calls for it.