9781626569768

the world. Swim at Your Own Risk.” Two feet from the beach shore the
cerulean water stops being waist high, and within a few steps the ocean
floor drops into a cavernous 663-feet-deep hole. Despite my being a
competent swimmer, fear consumed me. I was certain that the mouth of the
deep blue hole would suck me down to its watery floor. In my research, I
would later discover that my fear mirrored the exact superstitions that keep
native islanders away from the hole. Needless to say, I kept my distance.
It was at Dean’s Hole where I met Davide Carrera, a free-diving
champion from Italy. Free diving entails using a cable to descend into
extreme ocean depths without the use of breathing equipment. Davide holds
his country’s record with a 111-meter dive (yes, that is the equivalent of
diving off a thirty-five-story building)! 1 He was taking a break from
competition and enjoying the beach with his fellow divers when we struck
up a conversation. (It is in these chance encounters that I am reminded that
if we are open to it, we will find confirmation of our divine pathway all
around us.) “The dive is a spiritual thing,” Davide said. “I learn how to
listen to my body. I must listen or I will die. In the water, I must learn the
difference between fear and danger.” He did not know it, but Davide was
describing the journey of radical self-love. It is damn scary to probe the
depths of the thoughts, ideas, and subconscious principles governing our
daily lives. To be fear-facing is to learn the distinction between fear and
danger. It is to look directly at the source of the fear and assess if we are
truly in peril or if we are simply afraid of the unknown. The unknown is
like fog, and, of course, fog is frightening. Who knows what obstructions
could be lurking about? What if there is a deer soon to be splayed on my
windshield? What if I careen off a cliff while driving in the thick soup of
fog? Living with body shame and body terrorism is to be stuck in an
endless “what if” fog: a place of inertia. The only way out of the fog is
through it. We must dive into the unknown, trusting that our bodies will
help us discern fear from danger. There is always a clearing on the other
side of the fog. To be fear-facing is to navigate cautiously and with alertness
but to continue our journey. Before we parted, I asked Davide what
continues to call him to the sport of free diving. He beamed at me, the
Bahamian sun lucent behind him, and said, “Every meter is a tiny freedom.”
Yes, it is. So, let’s dive in!