When do we stop being fearless?
When I was younger, you couldn’t keep me out of the ocean if I had a chance to swim. We would visit the beach, and I would head straight for the waves, and not get out until it was time to pack it up and go back to the hotel. I would play in the water so long that at night, when I closed my eyes, I could still feel the rocking motion of the waves. Nothing would stop me – not the fear of skin cancer, sharks, pollutants, or jellyfish.
But for some reason, I am now afraid of jellyfish. I’ve seen several people come screaming out of the water… no, actually, I’ve seen one girl come screaming out of the water because she’d been stung. But she got stung twice in the same day. And I’ve heard lots of horror stories.
So today, when Lee and I were at the beach, I was scared to get in the water. We waded in up to our knees, and the water felt so good. Just cool enough to refresh you from the blazing heat, but not too cool. Just right. But I was nervous. We finally swam out farther, and I floated on my back with my face to the sun, trying to relax… but really wondering when and where exactly the jellyfish would get me.
Fortunately, no jellyfish got me today. But it was still a little sad that I was hesitant to get in the water. This from the girl who would’ve grown gills as a kid if she could’ve.