Every year around this time, I reflect on what I learned this year of being alive. It's an old tradition, started by one of the most inspiring women and gifted writers I have had the pleasure of knowing, one I am lucky enough to call grandmother but really should call more often. :)
This year, it seems there are fewer little lessons and more big ones. I am one lucky girl - I live in a place I absolutely love and have had the opportunity to share my love of the sea with over 600 people as I took them diving this year. Naturally, a lot of my lessons are water based as I've been dry about 20% of the year. My hope is that in sharing, some of you might learn something as well, or at least see a lot of good reminders.
It's your life - Get creative with it. Do things for you! Shortly after my last birthday, my friend Colby asked me, “What do you do for fun?” I didn’t have much when he asked me. I made excuses of being too busy. Of not having the same reliable days off. Of being too new on island to know what there was to do. Of loving my job so much I’d rather work. But then, all I had to do was reconnect to creativity. Find inspiration. Do the work to re-connect.
Shortly thereafter, I delightedly jumped in doing creative projects in preparation for my best friend's wedding. In the middle of this, with hot glue and peacock feathers on my fingers, I suddenly understood how much I missed this kind of thing! I loved having a creative project, I just didn’t know what to do, where to start. I was out of touch with inspiration. I realized the creativity was in me all along, I just had to build a bridge to let it come over, burst forth. No great writing comes from an unwrapped pen. In the projects that followed that summer: Peacock earrings, metal sculpture, t-shirt painting, portrait sessions for my neighbors, I found that if you cultivate creativity, then it's all possible.
How this transpired: At work, a young man working in another watersports field saw me as a threat. I was shocked - really? Me? But to him, I could be four feet tall, sweet as pie and still be a threat. Nothing personal, he said. He hates that I make a killing at sales and therefore is threatened by me. Which I find funny because a) we are selling two entirely different things, and b) when I first started doing this it was painfully difficult for me to talk to people and ask them to pay money to dive with me. Sales had been a weakness for me, not a strong point.
Now I am just bright and shiny and guests talk to me and ask when we are going out.
I thought -how huge of a milestone for me that I have come so far at sales that I am threatening a grown (immature) man! Awesome really.
And then, during Spring break, I blew all that out of the water. I broke the glass ceiling. I did more in sales than any employee of this company in 20 years, and happily accepted the largest bonus ever paid out by Shoreline SNUBA. I used to think I could do anything but be a salesman. And now I have learned it doesn't have to be scary or awkward or pushy. I just be myself, show my passion for what I do and invite people to come do it with me. And they do!
What we want for people and what they want for themselves are often two very different things. When my step mother came to visit, I wanted her to see these lovely gentle beings - sea turtles - underwater. But she's not really comfortable in the water and what she wanted out of the vacation was something completely different. It took me a while to learn this because it took another type of listening than I had been doing to hear what she really wanted. We cannot listen to the needs and desires of others when our ego is in the way. Our ego is our wants, it is us controlling what kind of experience the other person has. This is different from truly listening to what they want - separate from us - outside of us - and then seeking it with them. When I set my ego aside, I didn't give her turtles, I gave her photos and she was delighted.
The following week, I had the opportunity to dive a little boy named Leo. When I asked what his favorite fish was he said, "honu!" So we went diving and I found him a tiny honu (turtle.) The normal routine of a dive is to see turtles, have two minutes of photos and watching and then continue the underwater tour around the reef. Part of me wanted to do this because it is what we always do. But people are individuals, dives by awesome guides cater to individual desires, not the routine. So instead, I let Leo stay very close to the turtle, following it around, spending 35 minutes of quality time with his favorite fish, keeping snorkelers in the herd from kicking him as we did so. What I would have wanted the tour to be and what he wanted it to be were very different things, but I could feel where he was happiest and kept him there.
The same day, I met Reese, age 9. (Her mom said, do you realize my daughter loves you?) She's the extremely shy twin, highland dancer, who does hours of very serious backflips in the pool. I asked if she was a gymnast but no, she just loves those. When I offered to take her out, I discovered it was her very first time in the sea. She’d never seen fish out of aquariums, never felt the ocean’s embrace. But although I found Reese her very first turtle, I also found her a soft stretch of sand to do backflips in. We did so many. In sync, away from each other manta style. She came up glowing, still shy but gave me a huge hug and thanked me.
I adore this girl, the queen of backflips, more than words can tell you and look forward to her return visit. It was epically brave of her to join me, and a big step for her, and her eyes were HUGE going in, but because I listened to what she really wanted, and gave her the experience she longed to have, she had fun. I think this is part of being a great guide. This is how I imagined myself being as a dive master when we were learning years ago - to ask the client what they want to see, and have them help me manifest drawing that to them. It crosses over to daily life as well, a whole new type of listening.
This December, I dove a celebrity. He booked online using a fake name. He purposely filled out contact details half way, giving me half his phone number, a vague address with no street, etc. His lady was dressed to the nines with an incredible painting of makeup masterly applied and she was very nervous. When people pulled out their cell phones to take photos of the tropical view - not of him - on the beach, he winced, and quickly shielded his face angrily. But underwater, as I held his lady's hand and gently guided her around just a couple feet below the surface, I looked down and saw him swimming excitedly back and forth from things that interested him, just delighted and completely in his own world. I realized, he is just a big kid. Celebrities, I have learned, just want to be treated like normal people, normal divers, just any average Joe. They are hiding from the attention, not seeking it. And even the Godfather of actors is just a big kid at heart.
I had an interesting experience with guests who live an entirely different reality than my own this year. I connected with three daughters and a fun Californian mom who were jazzed on diving and wanted to go out with me. The mother is a certified diver who has waited years to be able to dive with her daughters and finally they are the right age! But when she asked her husband who clearly controls the finances, if she could sign up, he told her no. "Absolutely not. I am not spending money on that." His tone with her irritated me as much as his words. She reacted like a kicked puppy.
The mother and the girls where so disappointed until I decided I was taking them all for free, and oh, too bad, there was not any room for the husband to come along. I don't give dives away often, but it was the principle of the thing. The mother saw me stand up to him, and authoritatively make the decision to make her dream come true. She got the point, even if he didn't. When it is something you are passionate about, that you really want, don't let others tell you no. Find a way, make your dreams come true. Don't put your dreams in others hands by allowing them to have control over your life. The joy in that mother's eyes as she shared the world under the sea holding hands with her excited daughters was priceless.
This year I became certified to teach teachers. Which is completely different from teaching students. I learned that it does not benefit trainees to mother them. I learned I cannot be their friend and their teacher. And I found a balance the hard way. I once had a teacher who was too strict, too critical with me and offered no positive feedback. So naturally, I decided never to do the same myself. But in doing so, I swung too far in the other direction and was over-building my trainees up, compensating for their self doubts with too much reassurance. I thought I was being compassionate when I was actually filling in the holes that didn't work for them with my own effort. This kept me from seeing that this career wasn't working for them and having the blunt hard talk about it.
I learned to ask my trainees - why are you doing this? Why do you want to teach? If they really love it, then we can get beyond the obstacles and circumstances and work through and make it work. But giving them my love for it, and nurturing their ego is not actually effective in the long run. You can't do a career for long because your teacher loves to do it and that's contagious. Diving isn't just ANY job - it's rewarding and challenging and critical at times. You have to sincerely love it yourself in order to make it work. Since I learned this, my trainees have stuck around longer than those I was compensating for and mothering. The best teachers are those that make you think; who give you enough information for you to have the ah-ha moment on your own, not those who give you all the answers thereby taking away the challenge of mastering a new concept.
I learned basic Hawaiian pronunciation, and two beautiful songs in Hawaiian about love and gratitude. I will continue to build upon this next year.
Christian Heeb taught me that the best photographers can do quality work outside of the studio, outside of the controlled environment. They show up, evaluate, and use what they can to their advantage to capture the moment and accent the most interesting part of the scene. Usually this involves changing perspective by climbing on a fence, car, tree trunk, chair, rock, etc. :) Christian taught me it's not always about having a plan, it's about making the most of what is there. And when you see a photograph that moves you, consider part of the magic in the shot is actually the perspective of the magician who took it.
I learned that sea monkeys (remember those mail order pets from when you were a kid?) are actually brine shrimp.
I learned that a seahorse is a romantic soul and mates for life. Every single morning, the two seahorses change color to match shining silver frequency and take a leisurely swim together, holding tails like a couple holding hands.
I have come to terms with just how sensitive my body is. Some huge scary health things this year made me re-think what I want out of life. I am so much happier when I am in balance. And that balance is actually a delicate thing. You have to tend your body like a garden. After a couple rough winters, it takes a time for things to come back. I think we often don't appreciate our body for all it is capable of, we ignore it unless it becomes sore or sick. We don't think about how strong we are, how healthy we are and rarely take time to thank the vessel we dwell in, we experience life through for all it does for us. I'm getting better about this.
Life is precious. Allow yourself more of the things you love. Live fully, live deeply, truly interact with life. Don't just listen to the music, if it makes you happy, get up and dance. If someone has inspired you, been a great teacher, improved your journey, changed your life for the better, reach out and let them know. Appreciation is never wasted, trust me. Go beyond words, let your actions show those you love how you feel.
I've learned that when you love someone, whatever time you have together is time enough.
This year, I've spent quality time with old friends. I have so many I treasure and so much to thank them for, but I will keep it within this year or their piece will be pages longer. Thank you Heidi for your beautiful heart, the magical yoga retreat, the quality brainstorming sessions and for making me a better teacher by teaching me about ego. Thank you JC for the REI talk, for always being willing to share what I need to get when I need to get it, for making time to meet up in odd places and eras, for your friendship and your wisdom. Thank you O for being up for crazy adventures, for still making noises when we kiss, for holding my hair back, holding my hand during The Goonies and encouraging my heart to continue to seek what feeds it.
This year, by truly getting out and experiencing life, I've also met some new friends - I shook hands with a seahorse - they hold on tight. I held a dangerous spiny sea urchin, they crawl and tickle. I got high-fin from a turtle. I met a whale face to face. I held eye contact with a giant barracuda and tried to see him as just another fish, and not focus on his teeth. I raced dolphins in a mermaid tail. I rolled around on the surface with an endangered monk seal who seemed delighted that I also knew not to take myself too seriously.
This year I have felt more at home in my own skin, more in my own element in the ocean. Perhaps this is what growing up is like. It's not about being more serious and restrained, it's about knowing yourself better. And when you really get that, get deep down into the heart of that notion and live there, you find that in knowing yourself better, you really know others better. Because you're not projecting yourself onto them. This year, I'm better with letting others be themselves and letting me be me and really reveling in the magic of that. The more comfortable I am, the more comfortable everything else is too. If you haven't been there, it's a difficult notion to explain. I have said in years past that when you are at home within yourself, you are at home in the world, anywhere. It's like that, but on a more intimate scale. You decide when you grow up and you determine what that means. (Remember, it's your story that you are writing after all!) For me, I'm 33 years young, and so grateful to be me, here, now.
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| Photo Courtesy of Christian Heeb |
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