Freedom & Fear - two sides of the same coin - Expatlog

Freedom & Fear - two sides of the same coin - Expatlog

I didn’t take to swimming easily. At five, I spent school trips to the pool – a busy, noisy expanse of choppy water where shrieks and shouts bounced like bullets off the walls – white-knuckled and helpless, grimly gripping the fat metal bar on the inside rim, edging my way along hand-to-hand with the tunnel-visioned determination of the truly terrified. I don’t remember learning to swim, but I must have cracked it by the time I was eight because I chipped my tooth on the bottom of the pool teaching myself to dive. I went on to earn my Life-Saving and Diving awards, and my greatest wish every summer was for a pool in the back garden. So it’s a mystery why, to this day, my pulse quickens, toes and fingers grow cold, palms sweat and bowels contract whenever I decide to enter the water. The prospect of swimming fills me with a kind of dreadful excitement, even though once in I feel pure joy and freedom surrendering to that gravity defying fluid embrace...

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