Checking My Pockets

How a simple, neurotic action while swimming helped me grow.

When I—as a kid growing up in Michigan—saw one of our state’s 11,000 lakes, I’d peel off my shirt and shoes (if I’d even been wearing them) and toss them to the wind seconds before I was welcomed back into the coolness of the deep.

Joyous. No second-guessing.

It was more of the same during college in Virginia and working at camp during the summer in Missouri—lake, pool, pond, creek, or monsoon-puddle.

Then, living in Florida a couple years later, I realized I’d developed a new habit before hopping in the water: patting my pockets to make sure they were empty. Normal enough behavior…don’t want to ruin that phone or soak that wallet. However— sounds silly to say—I was doing so 2 or 3, even 4 times.

What in the world was going on?

The odd behavior embarrassed me, so I took some time to reflect and found that while I was physically touching my pockets, my mind was on other things, causing me to only half-believe the emptiness between my hands, shorts, and legs.

Upon further reflection, I realized my busy mind came from feeling anxiety and overwhelmed—preoccupied by responsibilities while not giving myself the space to process all the sheer weight of the emotions I’d been feeling. But then I saw it in a different light.

The action of checking my pockets became a signpost that, whenever I saw it, it indicated “Something must not be right.”

So I refrained from judging myself and began to slow down and think about my life, to feel the feelings I’d been having, regardless of what they were—joy, sorrow, happiness, regret, the whole lot. Simply by giving these emotions space to breathe, I felt calmer, slower, more present.

More myself.

Now, when I see odd behaviors in myself, I force myself to stop and feel the emotions swimming around in my head. It’s not always easy, but with those actions, I—a flawed, but growing man—am continually drawn nearer to myself, who God truly knows me to be.

I don’t now think twice before I dive either into the water or the depths of my imperfections, for I know that in doing both I feel a refreshment so deep, so true, which beckons me further still into myself.