You may have seen that I just learned to swim 2 weeks ago, after 40 years of being terrified of water. (dad/lake/near drowning).

I was moving right along, swimming more and more laps, until today. Today, swimming alone, I inhaled some water & was right back there. Three or four years old and drowning, almost forgotten by my stupid father & his drunk friends.

Today I flashed back to that & almost cried. So, gulping air and hyperventilating, I made it to the end of the lane and clung for dear life. It was the deep end, naturally. But I used Lamaze breathing until I calmed down.

And then I started swimming and made it the back to the other end of the pool.

I was done for the day, then, but I made it back to the end. I’m proud of me.

Swimming is a lot like writing books and having a publishing career. You can finally be brave enough to stick your head underwater…you can swim a lap & another & another …and then you can fumble and flounder and almost drown. But you can always flip over and FLOAT for a little while–swimming or writing… …catch your breath, make it to the end of your lane.
Finish the lap. Finish your book.

I was really, really scared today. But I did it.

And I’ve finally learned to be proud of what I accomplish, instead of beating myself up for the times I fail. So: I’m proud of me. I didn’t drown. I made it to the end of my lap.

And tomorrow? Tomorrow I’ll be right back at the pool.