by Ann Nelson-Russell

Created on: September 06, 2008   Last Updated: September 24, 2008

Memories have the potential to become etched in a person mind for an indefinite amount of time. As the years pass, the memory can seem to loom just within the intracranial haze. Life has a way of providing us with many pleasant memories. In contrast, we often end up with a few not so pleasing memories as well. No matter how much I tried over the years, one such memory held me captive and just would not turn lose.

That one particular memory induced a fear of water that paralyzed me from enjoying the simplest water activities with family and friends. Swimming, boating, or taking a cruise were out of the equation for me. I possess the knowledge of being held under water until I was on the very verge of passing out. My unsound mother inflicted me with the fear of water. As hard as I tried to overcome the crippling fearfulness I just couldn't conquer it enough to get in a lake or river. I feared the thought of having my head go under the water. I would envision being under the surface, looking up and seeing my reflection gasping for a breath of air. Not a pleasant thought at all.

One day while at work I was told that the team I worked with was going on an outing that included white water rafting. The excursion would be a company sponsored team building experience. I almost chocked on my fear upon the news. It took me a few days of pondering what to do before I met with my fellow workers to explain my trepidation. Once I openly shared my concerns the support and encouragement began. After many discussions, loads of reassurances, and a little excitement about the adventure of white water rafting, I agreed to try.

As the time approached my heart was racing; perspiration beads were forming a line down my jaw line. My coworkers were aware of my unusual quietness and the pale color my skin had become. They continued to encourage and reassure me and they spoke to the rafting guide about the safest place to be in the raft. That brought a smile upon my face momentarily; safe seating in a rubber raft while white water rafting, no such thing! The guide had me sit directly in front of her with my feet pushed tightly under the seat section in front of me.

That rafting experience produced a mixture of emotions in me the entire time. I felt extreme fear, excitement, joy, hope, and possible freedom. Our raft made it over the last terrifying rapid and I was still in the raft. At that point some of the team jumped into the water just to cool off and relax. I plugged my nose, took a deep breath and eased off the side of the raft. I was still scared but I was reassured that the life jacket would keep me above water. It was at that very moment that I knew that I was provided an opportunity to let go of at least some of that crippling fear.

The next day as the team spent time in Asheville, North Carolina I found a tattoo shop. At the age of 45 I received my first body markings. My tattoo is a beautiful blue Hibiscus flower with green leaves and yellow stamens. Every day as I look at my tattoo I am reminded by the blue Hibiscus that I was able to enjoy the blue water. The green leaves bring thoughts of the tree lined river bank. The yellow represents the sunshine and happiness I felt that day. When someone makes a statement about how that tattoo will look when I am an old woman, I simply laugh and say, one day I will have a beautiful wilted Hibiscus to go along with my memory.

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