Eating Swamp Grass and Petting Crabs
What happens when you push past your fear and embrace beauty instead? Read the latest post to find out!
The moment I got on the boat in Crisfield, Maryland, I thought I was going to a “normal” retreat. I thought I would get to know the other county Teachers of the Year, relax a bit, learn about the environment and then go home. While I got the chance to do the aforementioned fun things, I didn’t realize that I would also face and conquer fears as well as make lifelong friends.
One of my biggest fears is deep water. While I love the beach…from the sand…deep water always filled me with fear. Growing up in a small town means that I never had access to water deeper than my ankles. The result is that I never learned to swim but developed a healthy fear of all deep water.
This trip forced me to face this fear in many different ways. Smith Island only has one way to get to it… by boat. At the dock, I had a choice. I could either give in to my fear and go home. Or I could face my fear and experience something lovely. With my heart slamming hard in my chest, I boarded the boat for sheer force of will. As we left the dock, I had to talk myself out of being afraid.
A funny thing happens on the other side of fear…you find beauty. Once I stopped focusing on the thing that I was afraid of, I truly began to find the beauty in it all. I found the gentle beauty in the uncertain laughter of my fellow teachers as they shook off the barriers of the unknown on the journey to become friends. I found shocking beauty of the cold water as it sprayed us as the boat bounced along the waves. I found the rhythmic beauty of the movements of Captain Jesse and the boat crew as they worked together in a well choreographed dance. I found the beauty in the melodic interplay between the bird calls and the hum of the boat engines. I found the tranquil beauty in the warmth of the sun on my face and the wind at my back.
Armed with the beauty of the moment, I decided to embrace new things. I threw crab pots in the bay and petted a Maryland Blue Crab. I even went on a walk through a marshy swamp and sang to a snail to coax it out of it’s shell. I even tasted swamp grass and held a real Terrapin. And with every adventure, I chose beauty instead of fear. And as I embraced the beauty of each moment, I grew stronger, laughed harder, and learned more about myself than I ever thought was possible.
As I drove away, I was proud of the journey that I embarked upon the moment I decided to embrace beauty instead of fear.
Taking a Break
I recently celebrated my 30th high school reunion with the Class of 1993, reconnecting with some of my closest friends. Moving from Texas to Maryland in sixth grade, I forged bonds that have lasted nearly four decades. It was heartwarming to see how far we've all come, excelling in various fields while sharing laughter, joy, and the challenges of life. This reunion reminded me of the enduring power of friendship and community. We left with promises to meet again in five years, carrying the love and support we shared throughout the weekend into our everyday lives.
From April 22-24, 2023, I celebrated my 30th high school reunion with some of the best people ever. My classmates in the Class of 1993 have been some of the most dependable friends I have had the honor to know. Most people don’t know that I wasn’t always from Maryland. I was born and raised in Texas until 6th grade when I moved from Texas to D.C. to Maryland. In 7th grade, I started school at Sligo Seventh-Day Adventist Elementary School in Takoma Park. This is where I would meet most the friends I would make in the class of 1993. And this would start a journey with these amazing people that would last for almost 4 decades.
It was amazing seeing how far we’ve come from the awkward experience of middle school to adulthood. It was definitely interesting to hear how we’ve all become leaders in different fields. From medicine to education to politics, we’ve all changed in some ways but have also remained reliably the same in others. We’ve laughed and cried and shared so much together. From the joys of a new grandchild to the pain of losing members of our class, parents, and other loved ones, we’ve always shown up for each other when we’ve needed each other the most. And as always, there was the laughter…the golden melodic sounds of reconnection that happens once every 5 years.
And at the end of our reunion, we all hugged and answered the call of the individual reality of our every day lives. But we walked taller having had the powerful connection with each other for the weekend. Bolstered by the love of our community, we left each other promising that we would do this again in 5 years time. So until then, I will continue on in my individual reality until we meet again.