“Whitewater rafting is dangerous. You may get injured and you could die.  Sign here to release us from liability.”

I am already nervous about this adventure and the guide’s speech is NOT helping.

“If you fall out of the raft, I need you to swim aggressively back to the raft or to the shore,” continues the guide. 

Oh my goodness.  What am I doing?! I think to myself. There is no way I can do this. What if I get tossed around by the current and I can’t swim at all, much less aggressively ,  and I can’t breathe and and and …My mind spins with the “what ifs.”

I am familiar with this response. I’ve had to deal with it my whole life.

Thirty years ago when I was in college, there were countless risk taking opportunities. I did things that I never would have had the opportunity to do had I not been in college.  For example:

I went on two 10 day backpacking trips during which the mental and physical tests were frequent and intense. I hiked for miles every day carrying a heavy pack, I rock climbed, I spent two days on “solo” by myself (all alone in the wilderness), and I dealt with the many personality quirks of my fellow hikers, most of whom were strangers to me.

I ran for student government Vice President. I had to campaign and deliver a speech in front of hundreds of students. I was running against a charismatic, popular, and funny guy who seemed to have the vote in the bag. I had to deal with massive amounts of self doubt.  When I won I had to face the challenge of serving the student body in the best way that I could.

I traveled to Taiwan, Hong Kong, China, and Japan with a group of students and a professor to teach a writing workshop. Dealing with the language barrier and public transportation in a foreign country were just a few of the many obstacles I had to overcome.

I would have had none of these experiences if I had listened to my fear.  My fear will keep me from doing anything scary if I let it. I would much rather be safe.  I like predictable, known, routine, comfortable. It is an understatement to say that taking risks goes against my nature. And that is why I have to work so hard to combat the fear. 

Author of The Happiness Project Gretchen Rubin recommends developing personal commandments (overarching principles by which you try to live your life)  to increase happiness. One of my rules is to “live deep” (borrowed from Henry David Thoreau’s Walden , “I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life.”).  I am convinced that this core belief stems directly from the risks I took in college.  It was in college that I really began to understand the benefits of not letting fear be my guide. My college experience would have been very different if I hadn’t forced myself to live beyond the fear. 

This means I take risks like whitewater rafting even when I am scared out of my mind.  Because I know that the experience will be unforgettable. It will make my life richer and create memories that I will have for a lifetime.

I still struggle even after all the risks I have taken and the amazing experiences I have had.  What helps me is focusing on the knowledge that I will be happy that I did it. Not just happy, but ecstatic.  Because my life will be rich. I will have lived deep…and that is important to me.

So, that’s how I find my 53 year old not so athletic self traveling down West Virginia’s New River in a raft with my family. The scenery is incredible, paddling through the rapids is exhilarating, and having this experience with my loved ones is priceless.  I’m so glad I didn’t miss it. I lived deep and my life is richer because of it. 

Fear may be my constant companion, but it is not in charge. I guess I can “swim aggressively” after all.