I jumped into the lake yesterday. It was cold. Freezing actually.

Fall has wrapped its colourful arms around the lake, streaking the trees with golds and reds and auburn leaves not yet ready to fall. Every morning the colours appear a little more intense, a little more vibrant as the cool autumn nights remind the trees of their seasonal habit of embracing the world in brilliant hues.

And the water cools.

It’s about 16 degrees Celsius now. 61 Fahrenheit. And the air is no warmer.

But I had to jump in. It is a ‘commitment’ I made last year when we came — that every day, regardless of the weather, I would swim in the lake.

In my head it seems like a good idea. In actual fact, in the doing, I’m not so sure.

But a commitment is a commitment and so… I jumped in.

C.C. came down to the dock with me. He’d turned the steam room on so it would be hot when I got out, walked down the sloping trail through the trees to the water with me as I talked myself in and out of the water. 

“Do I really want to do this?” I asked him as I stood at the end of the dock, my towel robe still tightly wrapped around my body.

“I don’t know,” he said. “It’s your idea.”

I pondered. Felt the cool breeze against my cheeks. Dark clouds scuttled across the sky in the distance, edging their way closer to the sun.

“I’d better do it before the clouds block the sun,” I said.

“If you’re going to do it, do it soon. I’m getting cold,” he replied.

I pondered some more.

I’d had to buy a new bathing suit the day before. I’d forgotten mine at home. And, while this is a secluded bay, there are still houses scattered along the shore. I wasn’t sure I wanted to give them a display of me au naturel!

I stood and contemplated my commitment.

Seriously? I wanted to jump into the lake?

And then I thought about the exhilaration. The feeling of being totally, completely alive that first shocking dash of water ignited in my being. I thought about the laughter. The sputtering and gasping. The screams of exultation.

And I thought about how the day before I hadn’t jumped in, and how I felt disappointed. Saddened. Like I’d cheated myself of an experience I enjoy – no matter how much I mutter and murmur about it.

I like feeling totally, completely alive. And jumping into freezing water makes me feel totally, completely alive.

“I know it won’t kill me,” I said to C.C. “And when I get out, I know I’ll feel awesome.”

He laughed. “It’s up to you.”

I dropped my robe.

And leapt.

The water crashed into my body. My skin sang out from every pore it’s displeasure at this sudden immersion into cold.

I sank quickly to the bottom. Sputtering. Spurting, eyes wide-open, Ipushed off from the silky mud at the bottom of the lake. Pushed upwards.

My head broke the surface. I screamed in delight.

C.C. stood on the dock and laughed. “You gotta see your face!” he exclaimed.

I screamed back. “It’s cold!”

I flailed my arms about. Made a couple of half-hearted strokes as if to swim out into the bay.

It was cold.

Very cold.

I switched directions. Paddled desperately back towards the ladder at the end of the dock. Scrambled up the metal rungs.

C.C. stood waiting with a towel outstretched to envelop me.

It was good.

Very, very good.

Sometimes, the decision to jump isn’t about holding back, it’s all about letting go.  Like the words of a song I heard the other day on CBC by an Indie group named, “The Stars”. “Hold on when you get love. Let go when you give it.”

I had to let go of shore to get into the water.

I had to let go of disbelief to let love fill my heart.

Earlier that day I’d spoken to my eldest daughter about jumping in. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she said. “Nobody’s telling you to jump.”

And that’s true. I don’t. And no one’s forcing me to leap.

And still, I wanted to. I wanted the feeling of letting go.

And so… I debated. I hemmed and hawed and then realized, it’s not about having to jump in. It is about wanting to. It’s about doing what brings me joy. What ignites my passion, my sense of aliveness. What gets my heart beats pumping wildly in the rapture of now.

Life’s like that. Sometimes, the biggest difference we can make is to simply jump into the flow. Leap from the shore and cast off our fears and trepidations. Let go our hesitations, our mind chatter, our doubts and simply jump.

I jumped into the river yesterday. It made a difference.

I’ll be jumping again today.

 

PS – this is a cellular internet access and very, very slow. Hence, why I’ve not posted any photos. I’m going to take my laptop into town later today to see if there’s a coffee shop with free wi-fi. I’ll keep you posted. 🙂