A Cold-Plunge Type of Courage

I stand in the backyard of a stranger's home one quiet Sunday morning staring towards a black abyss contained by a faux wood rectangular exterior. I am with a handful of other women that range in age from mid to late thirties and up to, what I would think, is about mid to late fifties. We stand around this black abyss with one intent in mind. That's why we are all there essentially. It was to enter the black abyss and submerge ourselves, voluntarily, into the unknown. Well, perhaps I should have unknown with quotation marks. "The unknown" wasn't fully unknown to us. We knew it was about 37 degrees in that water we were about to step into and it was known that we would attempt to sit in that ice cold water for at least 90 seconds minimum.

I have never cold plunged in my life before nor did I ever have the interest in doing so until I began a personal one-year journey to find myself again. I wanted to get in better health and intentionally find time for me outside of bearing the weight of being a mother to three young children under five at the time. I was interested in putting myself out there and out there I went. It led me to signing up for a community breath work and cold-plunge event hosted by a woman in our neighborhood.

I watch the first volunteer step forward to go into the water. I had no idea what to expect other than it would be cold and everyone would be watching. I begin to smirk and grin as curiosity and realistically, fear, overtakes my mind. "Ahhh, eeeee, ahhhhh." Sounds of a woman going into labor begin to fill the silence that once was the ambiant sound of our gathering. My smirk quickly turned into a blank stare with my jaw slightly dropped out of pure panic. Eventually the sounds of shock and primal reactions of sitting in the cold began to slow down and turn into a soft, controlled, rhythmic breath of calmness and peace.

I wasn't sure what to make of all of that in that moment; especially as someone who has never been exposed to cold plunging. I decided I would definitely not volunteer to go in after her when the time came for the next person to offer themselves up to the black abyss. I needed at least 2-3 more willing souls to confirm or deny the near-death experience I envisioned in my mind. The next few people who volunteered were definitely less vocal and seemed to transition into the ice water with more ease. It showed me that it was possible to go in and not completely lose all sense of control. That definitely could not happen, not for this control freak writing these words here on this blog. There was no way I was comfortable to lose myself in front of people, neighbor strangers really, watching every move, every breath, and every second I was, or was not, in that freezing water. That was a HARD NO.

It was my turn to go in. I unwrap myself, exposing my body that was covered by a one-piece swimsuit. That in itself took courage. The next step was to get in. Do I go fast or ease myself into it? I step in.

I enter the water seeing the faces looking back at me and the facilitator guiding my breath. Yeah, it's definitely cold. I close my eyes and just breath. I scan my body mentally of which body part is the most frozen. The distraction helps as I envision different body parts no longer working the moment I step out of the black abyss...if I can even do that with no legs.

Soon enough, it was time to get out. 90 seconds had passed and I did not get eaten alive by the ice demons that nipped and prodded me in that water.

Over the course of the next few months I actively sought time in water that shook me up from the core of my body. The courage to face the water, which represented my rebellion towards comfort, aided me in building a confidence within myself that anything was possible. The cold plunge courage that I discovered within myself would allow me to broaden and be brave enough to face other discomforts along the one-year journey.

Courage is sometimes saying yes to what scares us. Courage is submitting yourself to the unknown or, "the unknown", and sitting in the discomfort. Courage is not defined by the intensity or the length of a process, but the willingness to posture yourself to even try. It is allowing your mind, body and spirit to say, "What did we get ourselves into?" and still do it anyways.

In the debut book of The Starting Point, the topic of courage is shared through the story of separation, faith and choosing to stay in the unknowns of life challenges. This book is written for anyone looking to challenge themselves through identifying and building up their "cold plunge type of courage."

Purposeful Practices:

1. What does courage and bravery look like to you? What would you be doing, saying, or thinking if you faced challenges with cold-plunge type of courage?

2. What limits you from being able to reach for

   the courage within you? List every thought, feeling or emotion that cause you to second guess yourself and keeps you in the comfort zone.

3. From the list from question two, use a red marker or pen to cross out anything you know to be a complete lie. For example, if I have a fear of dying or having my body limbs fall off because of sitting in ice water for 90 seconds was something that kept me from achieving my goals of cold plunging, I would cross that out. For anything that feels like it holds some truth to it, cross it out with a yellow marker or pen and write down beside it a courageous action or statement to help encourage you to face your fears. For example, "I am afraid that people will judge me and my body in my swimsuit" is something that could keep me from getting into that water. I would cross it out with my yellow pen and write beside it, "I am my harshest critic. No one will judge me more than I judge myself. We are all in it together and we are all here to support each other in the bigger picture, which is to all go into the black abyss and come out in one piece. We all share the same fears."