Fishin'.

I went fishin' the other day. Not fishing. It is called fishin'. So, when in this post you see the word fishing, make sure to read it properly in your mind.

Now, I have been fishing once or twice before, always on the intercoastal waterway. The thing about people who fish on the intercoastal is that they use live shrimp as bait. I am not such a fan of this. Firstly, the shrimp are still living, though that doesn't bother me as much as the other point. Second, they look very creepy and flick around. They have these weird insect legs and long feelers and seem to be the locusts of the sea. I have an intense fear of locusts. Like locusts, shrimp are virtually harmless, but this fact in no way decreases my fear.

The other times I have been fishing, the guy with whom I went, Larry, understood that I didn't like the shrimp. He gladly would put the shrimp on the hook for me, and I could fish peacefully never having to worry about the writhing crustaceans. However, this time I was with my friend Seth. Seth apparently believes in overcoming fears. Usually I don't have a problem doing crazy things or being fearless. I rarely ever do high-pitched stereotypical girly screams. However, this was no ordinary fear. This was sticking my hand in a bucket of water amidst these completely gross critters to wrap my hand around only one, avoiding the adjacent ones, pulling it out and ignoring the numerous legs and feelers on my palm long enough to stick a hook through the length of its body. Doesn't sound very pleasant, does it?

I tried to reach in the bucket. I got as far as the lid and one made a jump to the surface. I screamed and backed up. Seth tried talking to me. Seth tried calming me down. Seth decided to throw a shrimp at me. I screamed. He threw another. I screamed, jumped back further, and threatened him. He threw a shrimp at my face. I screamed and tried to make sure it didn't get caught in my hair. I punched Seth. Not lightly. He gave up on his mission, and we continued fishing.

Later, I decided that I needed to get over my problems. I couldn't go the entire day not having gotten the shrimp on my own. So I counted down from three and stuck my hand in the bucket. I got two of my fingers in the surface when one of them made a sudden movement. I retreated. I also screamed. This went on about six more times before Seth was a little sick of this.

In the midst of this, I remembered so many cliche movies or songs or whatever, where the idea is to "jump in." To whatever fear or anything. I remember thinking I just needed to "jump in." Close my eyes, and just reach in and grab a shrimp.

I never did that. I did, however, learn to gently reach into the bucket and hold a solitary shrimp between my finger and thumb long enough to take him out of the water and hand him to Seth to put on the hook. If Seth took too long, the shrimp would eventually flick, at which point I would scream and drop it. Either way, I was eventually able to adapt.

The thing is, I don't think anyone always can just "jump in." I'll never be able to act on stage. Some people will never donate blood, or stand at the top of a cliff, or go underground in a cave, or in a tiny closet. Everyone has fears, and its not always possible to completely overcome it with no uneasiness. However, we can always adapt. I can't put my hand in a bucket of shrimp and pull one out effortlessly. But I can get a shrimp out of the bucket, even if it's not exactly how most people would. And I think that's what matters, that I eventually found a way to do what I needed to do.

And I caught more fish than Seth anyways.