I am sitting in frustration. Nothing is simple. I don’t get it. Maybe I’m too old to learn this. Maybe I can’t. Maybe I’m incapable.
They say that trying new things is important for your brain. Our brain is a muscle. It’s important to stretch once in a while.
I am stretching. I’m trying new (to me) diving – specifically called sidemount diving. Do I need to get this certification? No. Not at all. I sort of happened into it. I reached out to a dive instructor in Cabo to see if I might be able to volunteer with him for the time I was in the area. It turned out that he was actually going to be in Indonesia for two months, and would be away the entire time I was in Cabo. He asked if I was interested in sidemount, because he had a friend who taught it. I had seen someone diving sidemount in Roatan, and it seemed interesting. I always figure more experience in different types of diving is important. It makes me a better teacher (and, hell – I love diving – so, why not try to keep it fresh?).
I had envisioned that I would pick up sidemount fairly easily. I mean, I have a decent number of dives now. Also, not to brag in the least, but I’ve recently gotten compliments from various strangers about how good I am with buoyancy (which if you aren’t a diver – that may not seem like much – but, in diving, buoyancy is key to smooth diving). So, I had been feeling pretty confident.
You may be wondering what the heck sidemount is. Well – most recreational scuba divers dive with one tank on their back. Sidemount diving generally means diving with two tanks, which are on either side of the diver. (although, sidemount diving can mean more than two. My instructor talked about diving with four tanks. That is definitely for someone far more advanced than I am). This is quite common in cave diving. I have not ever done cave diving, and have some fear about trying it (although probably will eventually); however, sidemount seemed interesting. Plus, anything that gives me extra bottom time seems like a good option.
But, the challenge with sidemount, is first of all, having two tanks throws off buoyancy (until you figure out your weighting). Also, instead of having one regulator (the thing a diver breathes from), you have two. Also, unlike my regular set up, the sidemount set up meant I had two regulator hoses wrapped around my neck. Moreover, one of the benefits of sidemount is that the tanks can be moved and adjusted as necessary (this is especially important in caves when the space might be fairly narrow). BUT, this is also a downside in that it means the diver needs to be mindful of where all of the clips are, so that tanks can be attached (moved) and unattached as needed. Also, it means that hoses need to be secured when not in use. What does all this equate to? There is a LOT more to pay attention to. Instead of setting my tank one time before I dive, and then going diving, I set my tank; I have to keep track of pressure of both tanks, and I have to periodically switch which regulator I’m using, securing the other one. I have to think about the air in my tank and how it impacts my buoyancy, and adjust the tank position as air decreases. Also, as part of this course, I have to demonstrate the ability to conduct certain “skills” (doing a frog kick, doing a helicopter kick, doing a reverse frog kick, and providing my “buddy” with my second regulator to practice an emergency situation).
Turns out, I am not a natural at sidemount! Diving with two tanks threw off my buoyancy: one minute at the surface, the next at the bottom. Also, I can’t remember where the clips are, and my hands are not cooperating in unclipping the clips (likely not helped with the water being cold, or initially having gloves on). To make matters worse, my natural kickstroke is a frog kick, and yet my instructor tells me I’ve been doing it wrong (apparently my whole life). Instead of doing it nicely uniform, I do it in a slightly crooked manner, which also throws off my buoyancy. I’m a fairly short person, so the tanks laying next to my sides, means the tanks are hitting my legs. I try to give my buddy the regulator for the emergency simulation, and I can’t figure out what regulator I need to give him. I also forget that the line needs to be fully unwrapped – and I provide him with air, but he still can’t breathe. To make matters worse, my mask keeps flooding. I’m kicking up sand and just feeling like I am completely hopeless at life.
But, here is the thing – trying something new is important. It does keep our mind more agile. Also, I realized if I am teaching other people, it is helpful if I remember how frustrating it can be to try something new. It can be SO frustrating. In fact, getting the certification required four dives. After the first two, I seriously considered telling my instructor I didn’t want to do it anymore. My brain said, “you don’t have to do this! You aren’t good at it! You might never need this in your life. Why not do fun dives only when you’re in this beautiful place?” I mean, my brain had a point. But, then I reminded myself, I was still seeing cool things even if I was getting frustrated along the way. I realized that I may not ever need this, but it was a good experience. Also, if I could figure out how to get better with two tanks, it would likely make me even better with one. (i.e., there are transferrable skills).
And – there is a lesson in this, right? Sometimes we want so badly to change things in our life – whether it is a way we act, or some behavior (like eating, drinking, or procrastinating), but we struggle. We get frustrated when we don’t “succeed.” But, change takes practice. It’s not one and done for most of us. When we make a change, everything feels weird. Everything feels off. We can start getting used to the change, but in times of stress, we may want to revert back to what feels “normal.” Change is hard.
I’m not going to lie to you. After four dives, I still wasn’t wonderful. I felt weird and awkward, although ever so slightly LESS awkward than I had during the third dive. Know what? I even signed up to do two additional dives with sidemount, just so I could get a bit more practice. After six dives? Nope, still not great. But, I started getting the hang of where things were and was able to clip and unclip without looking with my eyes for the clips. I felt more comfortable checking gauges. I was still pretty terrible at sharing a regulator, but I will never provide a regulator to my buddy without ensuring that the hose is straight (i.e., not kinked) and my buddy can breathe.
Now, sidemount is not the only thing I’ve tried to learn over the last two years. Hell, three years ago, I only had forty dives. Now I have more than five hundred dives. But, I’ve also tried to learn a new language. I’ve tried living in new places. I’ve tried other diving classes (like dry suit). I’ve taught diving classes for the first time. I’ve run retreats for the first time. I’ve run trainings for the first time. I’ve provided couples counseling for the first time. Some of this has come more easily than sidemount. None of it has been harder, but some equally as challenging and frustrating.
Why did I decide to write about this? Well, because we get it in our heads, don’t we, that we need to be good at things initially. We need to be super stars to stick with it. We need to see a future in it. We can make a change easily and stick with it. We cannot fail. We need to do the scary thing with someone else. But why? Scared of failure? Hell yes! Scared that we might looks stupid. Yes again. Scared that others will think we are ridiculous. Fear of judgment is so real. And yet – we all fail. At some point, we will fail. We must. And, yet – it’s so easy to think that means we should throw up our hands a say, f*ck this.”
So, I write this for two purposes. First, in the off chance that you might think that things always come easily to me. They do not. Not in the least. There are very few things I feel naturally “good” at. It all takes effort and practice. I also write this to remind myself. Just because things are hard, doesn’t mean they aren’t worth the effort. It’s okay to fail. Sometimes to succeed, we must first fail. It’s okay. It’s life.
And, as I wrap up this trip, I am saddened and nostalgic. While it wasn’t as hard to leave Cabo as it was to leave Roatan, I felt so grateful for the time. I was so in awe about the dives I was able to do – even the ones with sidemount. I saw so many amazing fish – including manta rays, guitar fish, mobula rays, dolphins, box fish, trumpet fish, nudibranchs and sharks galore. It was glorious. Also, my boyfriend and I got to spend a lot of time together. Now, this isn’t to say we didn’t have our tense moments. However, over the last two years, we have traveled separately quite a bit. It was nice to spend quality time together. And, for both of us, Cabo – and the whole Baja peninsula was new. And – it was worth every penny. The moments when we stretch make us more appreciative of those times when everything feels comfortable. If we aren’t stretching, we aren’t growing.
“What is the purpose of being human and alive without doing new things?” ~John Sulston
“Don't fear failure so much that you refuse to try new things. The saddest summary of a life contains three descriptions: could have, might have, and should have.” ~ Louis E. Boone
Comments