It was Spring of 2008. We were invited to share a lifetime opportunity and travel to Belize. My husband, Jeff, who once dreamed of being a marine biologist, could not wait to scuba dive the most treasured waters in the entire world.

Let me just insert a word or two here: “Sharks anyone?”

Personally, I prefer to breathe on land where I do not hear the dark, ominous music of Jaws in my head as I pretend to be a seal in scuba gear. I could easily be mistaken as shark bait! I have seen Shark Week. It’s a common phenomenon. My three greatest fears are: 1) Sharks (due to an early exposure to Jaws and years of nightmares), 2) drowning (this one is pretty universal), and 3) small spaces (it’s a genetic disorder called claustrophobia…I blame my father and grandfather for this one).

Out of love for my husband, I took a scuba diving course in a cold, miserable community center swimming pool where I learned that all my fears about scuba diving are valid. I know many grounding exercises that help calm the body under panic. I’m a counselor. I used every one of the exercises during these courses and we had not even left Oregon yet!
Fast forward to our amazing “serve-cation” in Belize, where we both served the local community and also enjoyed recreational activities. Of the many amazing opportunities we had on that trip, finalizing my scuba testing in the warm, coastal waters of Belize was a treat. The colors were beyond my wildest imagination. It was HDTV on steroids. However, I was unable to enjoy the brilliance in the water due to a near death experience 15 feet below the waters. Though Jeff might disagree on my perspective of “near death,” to me it was a life altering moment.

Our experienced instructor took us out to one of the Keys and asked us both to jump in the water. By this point, my pride was the only thing keeping me going. We splashed into the water. The goal of this particular scuba test was to take your mask off 15 feet below the surface of the water and then return it to its rightful place on your head. In training, you continually learn that you may not panic under water and race your way to the surface, due to the fact that your brain might get something called the Bentz, where the pressure change happens too quickly. Therefore, you must know how to reset your own mask and oxygen tank in case of an emergency.

So here we were, surrounded by darkness 15 feet below the surface, and I take my mask off and remove my mouthpiece, the only air I have access to. My long hair swam into my mouth and I began to have difficulty putting my equipment back in its rightful place. I obviously did not die, but I sure did think I was going to. When I was panicking, the instructor helped me, gently. I thought we would surely return to the boat to recover from my life- altering experience, but he continued moving us into deeper waters. I was not going to the boat alone, which meant I was following them into the depths. My mind raced. To be honest, it was hard to take in all the beauty as the music of Jaws went through my head and images of sharks lurking in the deep waters took over. Amidst all the fear, there was a distinct moment when I made a choice. My options were to continue meditating on my fears, or to move into the moment and take in all my senses were experiencing. I decided to change my thinking and started to pay attention to the colors around me. I looked for details in the coral reef and the variety of fish swimming around me. I heard the deep breaths of air from my tank filling my lungs full, and felt my husband’s hand holding mine. My heart rate slowed down and I could feel the kind of peace that so many speak of when swimming in the depths of the ocean. It became surreal, and for a moment, my fears were gone. Literally gone.

My scuba experience has reminded me often to not look beyond what is in front of me. There is rarely a benefit to assuming what’s lurking beyond today. I also need to lean on the people around me for help when I am struggling. As a leader, this can be difficult to do, but is so very critical to our survival. Finally, whenever possible, I take in all the beauty I can find in the moment. It’s the basis for gratitude and living with an open heart. Whatever we fear, we have a choice. I am not sure I will return to scuba diving in the depths of the ocean, but I am certain that I will never regret the opportunity I seized and the memories I made with my husband. I still fear sharks. I am still claustrophobic. But, I choose to not let those fears keep me from living.