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Open Mic: Paddling in the Persian Gulf

We find ourselves in fearful times. Franklin D. Roosevelt once said, “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” Maybe not.

It’s true that some fears are irrational and should be dismissed as such; however, other fears are not.  On occasion, it’s prudent to be fearful. And, often when you are afraid, the best course of action may not be clear.

Years ago, even though I couldn’t swim, I never bothered to wear a life jacket while canoeing on the Connecticut River. I assumed that if the canoe capsized, I’d float, not that I’d ever floated even for a nanosecond in my whole life. I should have feared drowning, but I didn’t. It would have been prudent to do so.

Yet, I did harbor an irrational fear of putting my head under water. This fear prevented me from learning how to swim.

Right after we were married, my ever-rational husband hired a coach from the local college to give me private lessons. Even though they cost $26.00 per half hour, a sizable chunk of our disposable income, I spent the first three sessions crying by the side of the pool.

Eventually, the coach relented. She put me in a shallow lane and taught me the sidestroke, which does not require placing your head under water. Now, I can swim, but my form is so appalling that whenever I’m flailing around at a new pool, the lifeguards wonder if I’m drowning.

Recently, we visited a small country in the Middle East. We stayed in a stone house on the edge of a lagoon. Before our trip, I’d made arrangements to rent a kayak. How cool would it be to kayak in new waters?

Unfortunately, the rental fell through. I wound up borrowing a bright yellow  kayak from a child. The kayak was about the size of a dishpan. Within a minute of launching from shore, I discovered my little vessel was taking on water, not enough to make me sink, but enough to be sitting in a tepid puddle. As I emerged from the protected lagoon and headed into the choppier waters of the Persian Gulf, I realized I was spitting distance from a neighboring country that diligently patrols its shores and arrests intruders. At that moment, it occurred to me that I possessed a terrible sense of direction. One wrong turn and I’d be on the front page of American newspapers: “Addled Woman Violates Maritime Borders, Detained by Foreign Government. US Refuses to Negotiate For Release. In addition, Child Demands Return of Yellow Dishpan.”

How did the kayaking story end?  As I age, perhaps I’m becoming a tiny bit wiser about what to fear. Falstaff says, “Discretion is the better part of valor.” So, I discretely steered my dishpan into reverse and headed back into the safety of the lagoon.

Many of us are struggling with fear right now, fear for ourselves, our friends and our country. I believe some of these fears are rational. So, how do we respond? I began with an FDR quote. Let me end with a quote from Bethany Hamilton, a professional surfer who lost her arm in a shark attack. She says, “Courage doesn’t mean you don’t become afraid. Courage means you don’t let fear stop you.” And, I have to say, I agree.