2017.5 Change of Perspective

Today's entry is from Sandy Halbrook.  Sandy is the sister of a classmate from OBU.  Via facebooks and the interwebs I have learned that Sandy is kind and compassionate, and has a great sense of humor.  When I asked if she would write an entry for me, she was happy to help.  I love what she wrote.

Change of Perspective

Sometimes when I start something new, I can be a little hyper-focused. Whether it’s dieting, working-out, taking graduate classes, or training my dog, my typical M.O. is to over-do it.

I’ve recently become a certified SCUBA diver, and lately I’ve been trying to get in better shape so that I don’t struggle so much carrying my gear. (So embarrassing when I’m done diving and I’m so feeble that I can hardly get out of the water with all my gear on!) So, I’ve been on the treadmill and in the pool trying to get in healthier shape for diving.

Sunday is one of the few days that I can swim at the Benson Center and not have to rush. I can really concentrate on my laps and push myself to do my best. Sunday is one of the few days that I can really savor my work-out. Until this Sunday.

This Sunday when I arrived at the Benson Center, the entire place was flooded with kids. Little kids, big kids, babies, toddlers, moms and dads with strollers. Kids everywhere. Every. Where. Great.

I started my customary routine in the hot tub first and then headed for the pool. I asked a lifeguard to put out a lane for me. (They always do that for me during the official “lap swim” times.) But here’s where it got a little crazy. People kept playing in the lane. Even adults kept playing with their kids in the lane—even after I started swimming laps. I had to keep my head up to avoid running into people standing in the lane.  I avoided hitting them by swimming around them—in my lane. Little kids were jumping in all around me, and once someone came within inches of jumping on my head. Several times people clutched my legs as I swam by. That’s kind of startling.

At first I was exasperated and wanted to say, “Excuse me. This is the lap swim lane,” but of course, I didn’t. And then I began to notice something different. I noticed the beauty of what was going on around me.

Wearing my mask, I could clearly see under the water, and I began to appreciate all the little legs and feet, all the little arms frantically flailing to swim, the daddy’s tattooed arms, the mother’s hands, and the trusting little children learning to swim in the hands of their moms and dads. I suddenly was able to see the splendor of the young families bringing their children to swim on a warm Sunday afternoon in December. All at once, the people in my lane didn’t inconvenience me anymore.

I think what I really needed last Sunday was a change of perspective. This Christmas season, instead of being annoyed and irritated by the people standing in my lane, I need to be aware of how precious each one of those children and adults are, and appreciate time with family and loved ones.