The Invitation of Courage
I recently learned about how some cultures value the job of a wailer — the one who cries out at funerals, giving everyone else permission to feel their grief.
It’s an ancient, vital role: one person’s honest expression helps others grieve out loud and process their emotions.
It’s curious to me how, as humans, we tend to move in lock step with the people around us. When people join my Intro to Efficient Swimming class, they’ve often tried adult learn-to-swim programs before — the kind where you’re told to just keep your head down, kick harder, and push through lap after lap. But it didn’t stick. They’d leave feeling out of breath and second-guessing themselves.
The first thing I do is give them full permission to run experiments in the water. “Just try stuff,” I tell them, “and see what happens.”
It takes courage to do something different in a pool where everyone seems to be moving in the same rhythm — to slow down, to listen for a feeling instead of chasing a number. But one person’s willingness to explore can quietly shift the energy around them. Their presence becomes an invitation that reaches farther than they know.
One of my swimmers shared a story with me this week. She’d been struggling — distracted, a little frustrated — just trying to get through her practice. Then, between sets, the swimmer sharing her lane spoke up.
He said he was inspired by the ease and grace he saw in her stroke. He’d even tried it in his own body, changing how he breathed and moved through the water. Before leaving, he smiled and said, “Thank you — watching you changed how I was swimming.”
That simple exchange shifted everything for her. She’d been doubting herself, feeling heavy in the water — and his words reminded her that even when we’re struggling, our presence has power.
Like the wailer, sometimes all it takes is one person to move differently — to give everyone else permission to do the same. In the pool, that might look like stopping mid-lane to notice something or taking notes in a waterproof notebook on deck. But the effect is the same: their presence becomes an invitation, a quiet reminder that there’s another way to be in the water, and in life.
If someone has ever changed the way you move — in the water or in life — I’d love to hear about it. Just hit reply and share your story.
With gratitude for every ripple,
Shannon
P.S. If you’d like a space to keep exploring these small, powerful shifts, come join us at The Water’s Edge — where awareness, courage, and connection ripple outward from every conversation.
P.P.S. Last chance to join me for Discover Ease in the Water, tomorrow at Rogue X from 8-10 AM!
