An Irrational Fear of Water Bodies & A Disconnect with the World
A few years ago, even if too much of an adult, I was somehow drawn to the idea of being able to glide through water smoothly. Without much ado, I signed up for beginner’s classes in the nearby government owned pool. Two weeks later, armed with rather expensive attire not advisable for a beginner, I confidently walked to the pool, where a line of young and old students were inducted in, with the form-filling process going on in full frenzy. I was already imagining myself swimming across blue water bodies like a mermaid.
Later, we were asked to go inside for the shower and dress change. We were then ushered into the deep blue pool by the woman instructor. To my surprise, we were also asked to get inside the not-so-deep end (5 ft.) and try walking inside the water, holding on to the walls. I had assumed the lessons to pace slowly, starting with toe-dipping. The next step was to hold our breath and get ourselves immersed inside the water briefly. The feeling was not too good, but I did it several times. The session had ended for the day.
The next day, we were encouraged to hold on to the pool walls and let go after raising the legs off the floor, allowing ourselves to float. Having accomplished this feat with ease, I felt happier. However, the jolt came when the instructor asked us to let go of the wall as a next step. I froze, whereas my team mates glided forwards a few feet, floating towards the wall first, and then outwards. The more I tried, the more I sank, and a couple of times the instructor had to pull me up.
After three attempts and drinking copious amounts of water (which I was sure was not very clean) I painfully decided that swimming was not maybe my forte. The depth of the water was less than my height of 5 ft. 7 inches, but its appearance underneath scared me. A dark pit inside me told me that the moment I let go, I would sink again and that would be a horrible experience. As a result, I remained floating, holding on to the wall for the next one week, with the instructor having given up on me totally. She had many a time tried to motivate me to let go of that damn wall, but once, after doing so, I sank my nails onto her hands in absolute terror of sinking, and at another attempt, nearly pulled off the poor woman’s costume, all in the fear of plummeting into less than 5 ft. of water and drowning.
Less than a fortnight into the classes, I was back sleeping soundly in my room. I did not miss the early morning classes, and the instructors must have been relieved not see my pathetic self again. Did I forget to say that I had caught hold of a severe chest infection too as a result of being in water without moving?
But I had not forgotten the experience. My conversations with fellow swimmers of the same age group convinced me that I was from another planet and that even a little depth of water (read fate) was very cruel to me. I am a Scorpion by zodiac, a sign that had water as its base element. I researched and found that Aquarius were the best swimmers of all sun signs. I suddenly hated all Aquarians. My boss at the time was born under Aquarius and I was glad to have one more reason to hate him.
A year later, while taking my daughter and her friends to the famed Ashtamudi Lake in Kollam, the neighboring district, I noted that the dark green water and its immense depth alarmed me. The girls and my mother were nonchalantly chatting and laughing, while I were suspiciously throwing glances at the green colored and vicious looking lake. The monsoon was in vogue and that day had been an exception. The children could gauge my fear and were creating panic by commenting mercilessly on a possible return of rain. The driver of the boat too sensed it and kept commenting on how the lake can change its calm behavior in a moment. I remember having asked him to please deposit us back on the shores as fast as he could.
It is only now, after these incidents that I realize the probable reason for my irrational fear. I am a tarot reader and an empath, and should not be fearing water or any natural element by any means. The fear happened at the time when I was feeling disconnected to the world in general. I had been treading onward on the spiritual path unsteadily, gaining insights about the self and the universe (still doing it). A feeling of oneness with existence should be my goal. However, at that time, everything related to the elements scared me. Too much of sun, depths of water, cold air and even the bare soil (used slippers/ sandals all the time). Only the greenery was interesting.
As I should have understood then, the sun, moon, planets, water, and air are parts of the same whole. My body is 75% water. In a similar way, I am connected to everything in this universe. When I get into water, I am not to consider myself different from it. When I venture out on a warm day, I should acknowledge the fact that the sun is a part of me and that I should not feel upset about forgetting my umbrella or the sunglasses (this is not to say that one should disregard the dangers of too much sun exposure; same with fire, where there should be no exposure other than for normal uses such as cooking).
Water is my friend too. A feeling of merging with water is needed when one is inside it as part of swimming. I had sunk earlier because I felt alienated and different from the water body around me. If I feel one with water, it would allow me to just be. My resistance had created this experience. My lack of trust had created fear.
I never tried my luck with swimming after that, but maybe I could join another class in future without so much fear. If I can connect to all, if I can resist less, may be I will be swimming through life effortlessly too.
