Diving and the Act of Beginning

In another entry we looked at freeing oneself to begin.

Today we’ll look at the simple act of beginning itself.

How do we, especially those of us prone to chronic procrastination, get ourselves to begin?

The answer, really, is to simply begin.

(Photo by Christian Theede Christiansen used under CC BY-SA)

Picture someone who has never dived before, standing on the edge of a diving board overlooking the water.

No amount of talking or coaching, or watching or thinking or even vowing is going to get a person to dive.

There are no magic bullets here—save for one. At a certain point, and this fact presents itself very early in the process, one must simply dive.

That means putting one’s hands together over one’s head, bending the head toward the water and then letting gravity pull the head all the way into the water with the feet following.

Bypass the fear circuitry

I use the diving example because it serves as an apt metaphor: it involves taking a leap into vast and unfamiliar realm.

It involves risk. It involves bypassing, just for an instant, our fear circuitry to engage in the only action before us.

The person diving may get it the first time, maybe the fifth time. But in my experience[1]I was seven when I taught a girl my age, Billie Joe, how to dive at my apartment complex pool. She was anxious but diving care-free in no time. I sensed, even then, how deeply happy it made her. … Continue reading they always get it.

The same thing is at play in other activities we may pursue: writing, speaking up about something, photographing a stranger, apologizing, studying, working out, starting a conversation,  starting a paper or a book, asking someone out, requesting a raise.

Invariably feelings will come up around this: fear, insecurity and doubt, joy, inspiration and desire, and even a knotty ambivalence. A well-trained and trusted psychotherapist with whom one meets regularly can help in processing all of this.

But the script has been flipped. A new way of relating, of doing, has begun.

So take a leap. It’s literally the only thing left to do.

Notes, etc.

Notes, etc.
1 I was seven when I taught a girl my age, Billie Joe, how to dive at my apartment complex pool. She was anxious but diving care-free in no time. I sensed, even then, how deeply happy it made her. I’ve since given this to countless others, including my own children, and the results have been the same.