She Threw Her 3-Year-Old Into The Ocean!

Or...Why You Need to Leap into 'Danger' Without Looking

Midlife is the plot twist. Essays & guides for women reclaiming their identity, creativity, and agency. The structure of fiction is the structure of transformation, and we write through it together, one prompt at a time. Subs get FREE Heroine’s Guide to Designing an Extraordinary Life.

When we first moved to The Bahamas, I was obsessed with safety. I'm that person who didn't grow up around water (at least swimmable water), so I got a tad over-protective of my water-baby daughter. Emily was not a baby when we moved there (she was nine), and she blitzed through her swimming lessons as if she'd been born an island girl. Yet I was still nervous about the ocean just outside our back gate. Here is a photo of the back gate so you can see how close we are to the water.

One day, shortly after moving, I was sitting out on our coral "dock," reading my book, when our new neighbour, Olivia (names changed) came out holding her three-year-old daughter, Katie. Olivia's back gate was double the height off the seabed as mine. They had quite a mountainous set of stairs to climb down before they reached the sea. I would say their top step was about 15 feet above the waves.

Olivia opened the gate. She had Katie under one arm in her fat little yellow life jacket, and her snorkeling flippers under her other arm. She tossed the snorkeling flippers onto the step, turned, and, without hesitation, threw Katie into the ocean below. While Katie bobbed on the surface, giggling at the thrill of her flight, Olivia descended to the bottom step, waved at me cheerfully before she sat, pulled on her flippers, and jumped into the waves to join Katie.

Olivia had both scared me to death and earned my unending admiration.

Olivia, a seasoned island dweller, had little Katie, a Bahamian native, navigating waves like her playground. They were at peace with their environment and fully embraced the advantages of living next to the sea.

Had I?

I was so prudishly concerned about safety, but truthfully, Katie was as safe as houses. She had her life jacket on. Olivia knew that the area had a soft, sandy bottom and was free of rocks. But the sight of that baby flying through the air, with Olivia not even flinching, made me gasp.

My first experience of an actual amusement park was Great Adventure in NJ in the 80s (if you know, you know), and in my youth, I was an overly cautious person (I'm better now, but I’ll still never bungee jump). The only ride I felt safe on was the swings. I understood that ride. It was just like the swing in the park, only higher.

Except in Italy.

Every summer in Borgotaro, the "giostri" comes to town, otherwise known as the carnie in the UK or the fun fair in the USA. They have swings, but they are nothing like the Great Adventure swings. Italians have no concept or respect for the idea of safety. Not content with the swings being a safe and enjoyable ride for those of us who are ride wary, the Italians decided it was boring and had to amp it up a bit.

Maybe a meter above and to the side of the natural path of the swings, the "giostri" folks hang a feather duster from a tall pole. The goal of the swings is to grab that feather duster so you can win a free ride. How do you grab that duster? Well, you can't do it alone, and two methods have been perfected by the Italians and my husband and his nieces and nephews (he's the favourite uncle across the board for a reason).

The first method is the kick method. You hold tightly to your partner’s chair, pulling them toward you, and as you reach the feathers, you kick up and out, hoping the chair will fly high enough. That doesn't always work. You just might not get enough power that way.

The twist-and-throw method is the second way you attempt to grab the duster. This gives you more momentum, and if your partner is light enough, they can really fly. This technique is activated by pulling your partner's chair as close to you as possible and turning them in a circle, around and around until their chain is as tightly twisted. Then, with the right timing, you flick your partner's chair so it starts to untwist rapidly and throw them as hard as you can toward the duster.

If you think this would be terrifying to experience, I can also assure you it is terrifying to watch. Our friends and their 12-year-old son joined us one year, and Elaine unknowingly waved Eugene onto the swings to be my husband's partner.

I thought she might have a heart attack.

Did Eugene think it was the best thing ever?

Yes.

Did Elaine let him have a second ride?

No.

Safety is often a cultural construct; what one society views as reckless, another sees as normal or joyful. Both Katie and Eugene were filled to the brim and overflowing with joy.

My point is that sometimes you have to let go (not of the swing; don't ever let go of the swing). My overly cautious approach to living on the sea held us all back. I think Elaine's fear of the swings held Eugene back.

True freedom often requires embracing calculated risks rather than adhering to social norms, which would seem boring in another place. The Bahamians think I'm crazy wanting to wear a life jacket on the speedboat (tbh, I wear one on our little dinghy). And the Italian teens would crack up laughing if they saw how tame my Great Adventure swings were.

Sometimes, the most memorable and transformative experiences come from releasing control and embracing spontaneity. Sometimes, you just need to step out of your comfort zone and cross the threshold.

Sometimes, you need to jump without looking.

JOURNAL PROMPT:

Time to face the fear. What are you avoiding in life because it doesn't seem safe? What do you feel if just outside of your comfort zone, but, if you jumped it would bring you joy?

I think we are in the habit of playing it way too 'safe.' What do you think?

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