Magic in the Air

There was a certain amount of magic in the air yesterday. Perhaps it blew in on the wind (Lord knows there was enough of it).  I can't explain it but that's the only reasonable explanation for the not one but two, dare I say, earth-shattering events which transpired over the course of the day. 

Our good friends have a family tradition in which they spend the day at the beach in honour of their eldest son's birthday.  This year, we were invited to join them.  The beach is on a lake at a state park not too far from where we live.  We had never been so we were all eager to go.  There is also a lake about a mile from our house, which is usually where we hang out in the summer.  It's a smaller lake with a very small "beach".  The beach at the state park was HUGE in comparison and the kids decided to take advantage of all the sand in which to take turns burying each other.  My son was the first to be buried -- right up to his neck.  The children thought this was fabulous & shouts of "I'm next!" ensued.  My daughter was buried next, followed by one of our friends' sons.  After each child was buried, with only their head stuck on top of a mound of sand, I was instructed to take a picture of the child and those children who did the work. 

Now, saying that my son has issues with having his picture taken would be an understatement.  He has been struggling with Situational Mutism (a childhood anxiety disorder) for the last 5 or 6 years and while he has made incredible strides, one of its last vestiges is an abhorrance to having his picture taken.  If I am not mistaken, it was actually his idea for me to take his picture while he was buried in sand.  If it was not his idea, he certainly made no complaints about it.  And really, as he was buried, there was nothing much he could do to stop my taking as many pictures of him as I wanted.   However, what really surprised me was a while later when I called all the children to gather together around his friend, who was currently buried, for a photo op, my son actually did what I asked.  He knelt down behind his friend together with the other children and was included in the picture.  The picture is one of those quintessential childhood photos that brings joy to the faces of those who look at it. This one will always bring a little bit more joy to my face, as I know how rare an opportunity it really was.

The second phenomenal act of the day was committed by yours truly.  I had spent the afternoon watching the children splash and swim in the lake.  The day was warm and the water was inviting.  I had the last shift on "lifeguard" duty and stood at the edge of the lake in a foot of water, envying the children their fun and longing to join them.  There was only one catch: this was a lake, which meant there was a very high probability that there would be fish in the water.  And I am terrified of fish (Yes, I agree it's an odd phobia, but there you have it).  So I stood at the water's edge having a very repetetive conversation with myself over the pros and cons of actually going into the water.  Add to that the fact that my son had already gone up against one of his big nemeses that day and I was beginning to think that I just might be able to do it.  Then I was told that it was time to call in the children as we were packing up to leave.  There it was: now or never.  So, I mustered up all my courage, took my daughter's hand and waded out into the lake (cursing under my breath all the way).  I finally made it out to where the other children were in waist-high water and decided that if I had gotten that far, I should go all the way -- under, that is.  So the children counted me in: 1, 2, 3! ... and I was still standing.  They had to count me in four or five times before I was finally able to take the plunge.  On the one hand, the water felt great and really refreshing, but it wasn't enough to keep me out there so I bee-lined for the shore.  It turned out I wasn't in the water for long and you couldn't even call what I'd done "swimming" but for me, it was an incredible feat.  I got high-fives and hugs and everyone was thrilled that I had made it into the water, most especially me.  (Of course, I then had to hang out in a wet bathing suit for the better part of an hour and by the time I got home, I had some serious willies about being covered in fish water for that long, but it still wasn't quite enough to bring me down.)

I can't speak for my son about what caused his lapse in camera-induced anxiety, and while I should be able to speak for myself about the lapse in my fish-induced anxiety, I simply can't.  I can guess that my son was just having such a good time with his friends that he forgot to be afraid.  Mine was a much more conscious decision to ignore the fear.  Yesterday it worked.  Next time it might not.  But at least now I know that if everything lines up in just the right way, we can get past those things that hold us back and every time we are able to do that, it makes us just a little bit stronger.