Things I Used To Do Again

Bucket Lists and Becoming Boards

I recently re-joined the local YMCA, primarily for access to the pools. This morning I went early to a water aerobics class so I could just float a bit before the place got crowded.

There’s something healing, magical, even mystical about floating in warm water; not fully understanding how, but completely trusting in the water’s ability to hold you and keep you.

These last few months have been like an ocean of effort and emotion. Moments of calm and storm as I worked to publish my first collection of poetry Unraveling: Coming Out and Back Together.

Daily reliving the experiences captured in the poems. Much like the mysterious power of water, I trusted in life’s ability to hold and keep me in those moments. And by life, I mean god, creation, the universe, the unnamed presence of sacredness, the indescribable energy of love.

How do you experience sacredness and love? Who do you trust in times of big oceanic efforts and emotions? What holds you? How are you kept in the everyday ordinary and wildly extraordinary moments of living?

While floating this morning I had a small epiphany. Yes, water is wonderful and amazing, and being in it I have talents and skills I do not possess on land, such as the ability to do somersaults and cartwheels, back flips and hand stands. Certainly, water has helped me survive and heal, relax and refresh.

And I had a role in my survival and healing too. Many of us hesitate or even outright refuse to acknowledge our successes or celebrate our accomplishments. We’ve been taught—in subtle and direct ways—that it’s wrong to pat ourselves on the back or toot our own horns. We give all the accolades to others. We brush off our efforts as no big deal and nothing to write home about.

I know how it feels to give away your value and power by giving those people and experiences that knocked you down all the credit for your getting back up. And I don’t want to feel that way anymore. And I don’t want others to either.

You have done great things. You have made ways where there were none. You have finished what others said you’d never begin. You have survived what you once thought unimaginable. You took what little you were given and turned it into much. You have held doubt and curiosity, grief and gratitude, broken pieces and beautiful possibilities and not collapsed. You have held hope in your heart even when your hands have held heavy hurt and sorrow and kept on going. You have kept yourself, your dreams, your soul, your worth, and your determination afloat through strong waves and fierce storms. You stayed grounded even on days when the winds were so wild they closed the beach to visitors.

Take a moment, or two, or a whole day or week to celebrate yourself. Take all the time you will give yourself to honor the life-giving gifts of your own holding and keeping.

And be patient and gracious with yourself if it takes some time to be comfortable with this. Today as I floated around the pool, I noticed a companion in the water beside me. The one that likes to tell me it’s wrong to speak positively or highly of yourself. That one that says being humble means being self-deprecating. And I told them to go. Float somewhere else.

Doubts and worries will surely come to visit, so rather than denying their existence, create a plan for re-directing and re-routing them when they show up. Acknowledge them, but don’t hold on or keep them close.

I stayed away from pools for a long time because of fear, exhaustion, insecurity, and shame. Getting back in the water has been so good for my body and my spirit. A revival. A home coming. A becoming.

So much of my life has been about unraveling, untying and untangling knots and erroneous messages that lead to my undoing. And I’ll keep talking about unraveling and sharing those stories. In fact our summer calendar is quickly filling with poetry and preaching invitations. Visit our website for more details on scheduling 10 Camels to share with your church or organization.

And here at Wednesdays at the Well, I want to write more about becoming, which is the gift of unraveling.

At the end of class today, I let myself sink to bottom of the pool and slowly float back up. Repeatedly. And after the fourth or fifth time, I had this vision of other things I used to do, but let go of because I was holding so much stress and struggle and keeping it all inside.

I’ve made a bucket list of things I used to do and want to do again. I call it my becoming board. 

Are there things you used to do that you want to do again?

I invite you to make a list.

Give it a name.

Commit to doing just one of those things.

Or even just imagining yourself doing one of those things.

How does it feel?

I’m ready to dive into things I used to do again. And for the next many weeks, I’ll share these things here at Wednesdays at the Well.

And if you’re feeling brave enough to share, I’d love to know what you used to do and are doing again.

Last Saturday was the Unraveling Big Book Launch Celebration. It was an amazing afternoon. I felt a bit like a rockstar signing books with my new purple pen.

“The gift of unraveling is becoming. May we all embrace this gift.”

Rebecca & 10 Camels

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