It was the last day of my PADI open water diving course, and I was 10 metres under the Devon sea.
By all accounts, I’d been a model student. The theory bit came easily. The exam was a breeze. Up to this point my training had been in the local swimming pool, where visibility was perfect… and now this!
Today, I had to take out my regulator (air supply) and replace it; and stay down for the duration of the mask swap, to prove I was a real diver who had grit if things got bad.
It was dark and murky down here. And very scary. I could hear my heart thumping.
So far, so good. I’d set the correct buoyance and descended to the seabed. Flotsam and seaweed billowed by. I’d been through the safety drills. My trainer gave me the international ‘ok’ sign, and I mirrored it back.
I was good to go.
Deep breath…
I took my regulator out, waited for 10 seconds, and went to replace the air supply. I’d done this a hundred times on dry land and dozens of times in Exeter swimming baths, but this environment was different.
I hesitated, and then hurried, and bumped the thing on my mask instead of getting it between my teeth. I could feel panic rising. I tried again and managed to get the air supply in, but I also took in a big mouthful of water and I began to choke.
My panic rose to terror.
My trainer was staring at me and took my hand. I was sharply focused on his eyes while trying to clear the water out of the way so I could breathe again. Remember, I knew the theory. I’d passed the exam. He stared at me, and I stared back. I kept going, swallowing and clearing, catching breaths where I could.
Finally, after what felt like many minutes (but was actually seconds) I found my breath and heard the satisfying in and out of some big lungfuls of oxygen. I have never been more grateful to breathe. I gave the ok sign and then safely began my ascent to the surface.
I passed, and I am a qualified PADI open-water diver. I went to Thailand and I did a further deep dive and night dive qualification. I’ve dived amongst the coral, in magical underwater seascapes, with Nemo and Dory!
Reflecting on my moment of terror, it was my trainer’s confidence that kept me going. I was lost and scared, but he held my hand and looked me in the eye. He was telling me, ‘You’ve got this.’ He was reminding me that I did know what do.
There’s some big learning in there – lessons that go way beyond my experience on the seabed.
First, his faith in me restored my faith in me! The Pygmalion Effect means people will rise up (or down!) to the expectations that you have of them, so why not set your sights high? Start seeing the good in those around you. See their potential instead of their failings and watch them fly.
Second, without that adversity, without that moment of terror, I wouldn’t have realised that I already had all I needed within me. From this moment of growth, the opportunities opened up.
Third, I’m metaphorically holding your hand and looking you in the eye. Life will challenge you, but you’ve got this! You have all the resources you need, within.
And finally, breaaaathe. Go through life with fewer short panicky breaths and more deep inhales and exhales. It oxygenates your brain and body, prepping you for life’s big challenges.
Flis (the only PADI qualified trainer on the Art of Brill team)