Standing at the Edge: Why Taking the Leap Feels Harder Than It Used To

In that weird blurry period of time between Christmas and New Year I was lucky enough to enjoy a day at the spa with my daughters.  They’re both young adults now living away from home at uni for the bulk of the year, so quality time all together is very precious. The day was actually my youngest daughter’s 18th birthday present - and had had to be postponed twice for various reasons, so it felt particularly sweet to be finally going to spend a lovely day together padding around in robes, being pampered, and drinking cucumber water by the bucket-load.

The spa we visited had numerous pools at varying temperatures, some cooler for lane swimming, some warm enough to sit around in on the built-in seating and chat, some salted for relaxation.  We had recently toured the roman baths in Bath and we all felt rather… Roman… The hydropool with all its hot bubbles and wild energy was a particular favourite, and next to the hydropool were two small plunge pools - no bigger than your average downstairs loo (halfbath for American readers). The temperature in them was…. COLD. Naturally, we wanted to try them out - we had the vague notion that that would be “good for us” and anyway, plunging into freezing cold water is fun, right?

Not right it seems.

In fact, very wrong, according to my brain or my body or whatever it was that physically stopped me from climbing down the ladder and popping my body under the water. Whilst my two daughters laughed, walked over and jumped straight in, I found myself frozen to the spot. I actually physically approached the pools and walked away twice (apparently this was very amusing). Eventually, I managed to override whatever it was that was stopping me from jumping in and take the plunge - but it was a gargantuan effort. The water was cold, but not overly so, and certainly not painful, and after I had gracelessly clambered back out I realized I felt proud of myself and also pretty darned invigorated.  We high fived, as one does…

I’ve been thinking about it a lot since then. Especially with launching my business in the UK this year and all emphasis we all place on “being ready to leap” and “jumping in”. Maybe the problem isn’t that we’re bad at “taking the leap”. Maybe it’s that we underestimate how much experience, memory, and self-protection we’re carrying when we stand at the edge.

I am, in a weird way, a little bit of a control freak.  I think some people who know me wouldn’t necessarily agree, as I’ve got older I've learned to let go of the things that are less important and relax a little. But at my core, I like to have thought things through, prepared, and know exactly what I’m getting myself into. I hadn’t been in a plunge pool for a good few years, and I had no idea how cold and unpleasant it would feel. Something inside me was definitely trying to protect me and I found myself standing there, rationalizing with myself - how bad could it be? It would be over quickly, it might be unpleasant but it might be rewarding. My poor brain had to stand there and process all that while the young adults in my life just… jumped right in.

I’ve been doing some Googling, and it turns out that what I was experiencing was the good old “fight or flight” response - or, my sympathetic nervous system kicking in. That hesitation I felt wasn’t just me being a middle-aged wimp, it was biology. And biology played a part too, in the way I responded once I’d “taken the plunge”. It was cold. It wasn't particularly pleasant, but afterwards my brain rewarded me with a hit of dopamine and some nice endorphins too - I felt great!

I think too often we talk about “taking that leap” without really considering what that truly involves, especially for people who have been on this planet a little longer, who have had things go wrong, who have felt pain, or embarrassment, or failure. That inability to jump in the plunge pool on whatever day of the week it was in December when we finally made it to the spa is the same hesitation so many of us feel when starting anything new. The urge to protect ourselves from discomfort or pain is so strong  - particularly as we age. 

But the other thing we really learn as we get older is that life is so precious and almost always too short. I was reminded of that fact at the end of last year by the premature death of a dear childhood friend. Personally, I feel one of the most important things we can do is try to live a life that feels authentic and real and true to ourselves.  So, although it was just a plunge pool on a cold and dreary late December afternoon, it was also a reminder. That it’s OK to be wary, that it’s understandable to hesitate and assess  - but that it’s important to overcome. That the rewards are feeling energized, feeling proud, and getting to high five your daughters.