Life jackets and a single scream
physiologically we are heart centered beings
July 5, 2026
A few weeks back we went to the Blue Hole for my husband's birthday. Both of us being born on opposite coastlines, we regularly wonder why we’ve found ourselves living here in the high desert. Maybe it’s a reminder to treasure how much we love and value water.
“It’s really one of the most powerful and transformative elements,” he says as we drive home. “Any clean water, especially salt water, can completely clear your being. An energetic baptism.”
It was true. We felt reborn.
The blue hole is aptly named. It’s a 82’ deep spring fed hole in the earth, maybe the size of a large public swimming pool with waters the deepest, clearest, and coolest azure. Hovering around 60-62 degrees, it’s also very very refreshing. I indulged, spending almost an hour submerged. Swimming, diving, and paddling around I could feel my internal heat, irritation, and emotional charge that had been accumulating subsided. The cold water has this way of melting all the angst away. An oxymoron, I know.
After a while I took a seat on the surrounding stone wall to warm up and watch as a stream of folks took the 20’ plunge. It’s not a double screamer, as our friend described it, where the cliff is so high you can scream twice before you make contact. There’s one of those at a lake further east. This one’s only a single screamer. To me the cliff is HIGH. Just enough time to belt one out before one’s body would break the surface with a splash.
They all lined up to make the jump; the teenage girls hand in hand, followed by the pack of boys each one trying to out perform the previous with the same backflip. Cheers and yells filled the air from the friends watching below. Occasionally a chorus of applause would erupt from those watching, myself included. Headfirst dives, belly flops, and jump after jump with hair flying and noses pinched I sat amazed and entertained.
Next came this small boy. Very small. He may have been 6 or 7. With his PFD securely fastened, he stood at the edge holding the hand of a young girl who was older and taller. Maybe it was his cousin or older sister. All I know was that I was watching this one closely. He was nervous, I could tell. Thankfully there wasn’t the obnoxious uncle or the macho older brother shouting at him, yelling his name, and ordering him to “jump, jump, JUMP!” while they’re just chilling on the sidelines. I’m always like, just shut it and let whomever is up there jump or not. Let them be. If they jump, fine. If they don't, that’s fine too. It’s scary and exhilarating enough to also have to contend with someone shouting at you. The internal raucous is often enough. From having been the person on the cliffs edge a few times in my life, no amount of ego induced berating helped. The experience was the experience, the courage swelled from the inside. The unfolding is internal. The jump, a leap of faith, an unforgettable thrill.
I could see his face calculating the distance. The height at which he stood probably seemed immense. The girl beside him jumped. Those behind him waited patiently to see what he was going to do. And then at the top of his lungs, kind of like a wild animal, he let out this amazing scream. I saw his little body rumble. In a second, fully embodied, all that fear vanished. It was as though the roar shook out and discharged all the emotions holding his body on solid ground. It’s not that he was fierce, but sure. In the next moment he launched himself off the cliff and the water received him gently. I wanted to see his face, his reaction. He popped up smiling so wide and wet. He was radiant. What did I just witness? I was clapping. As were others. I could hear myself saying, you go little one! You’re brave and wild at heart. Have fun!
I’ve been thinking a lot lately of what it means to be brave. How to move through life and navigate its challenges with my heart leading the way instead of my mind. I mean the message we hear, certainly the one many shouted from the other side of the Blue Hole, is don’t be afraid, and if you are, do it anyway. To that I call bullshit. Being brave is about following your knowing, your heart, and your senses regardless of what others think or expect.
It’s about being honest and integrated (having integrity). Coincidentally this coincides with learning that we are designed, physiologically, to live from our heart center and visit our brain. Which means, no matter our age, our sensing energetic beings are without the logical constraints of time or reason. This kid reminded me how powerful that is. Unfortunately many of us have that backwards.
Truth be told there was a lot of don’t be afraid, and if you are, do it anyway happening. It can happen when there’s a rope swing, a cliff jump, a diving board, whatever. People are just interesting. And competitive. Even seven year olds. But I don’t think that’s what was happening at that moment. I believe I saw a brave little boy shake away fear's grip, release it, and fly.
As a heart centered being, whose brain is not the cognitive leader, I’ll leave you with this passage from Melody Beattie’s daily reader, The Language of Letting Go. It just so happened to be the reading following the single scream day where I got to watch a raw and free kind of bravery come alive in a little boy and then in me. The synchronicity of it all never ceases to amaze.
FUN
Have some fun — with life, with the day.
Life is not drudgery; that is an old belief. Let go of it. We are on an adventure, a journey. Events will come to pass that we cannot now fathom.
Replace heaviness and weariness of spirit with joy. Surround yourself with people and things that bring lightness of spirit.
Becomes sensitive to lightness of spirit.
The journey can be an exciting adventure. Let yourself enjoy it.
Today, I will have some fun with life, with recovery, with people, and with my day.
Yours, Erin
*I think calling them life jackets is silly. It makes me think of a dinner jacket; what a person needs at a pretentious restaurant to adhere to its dress code. PFD (personal flotation device) is more technical. Ask any kayaker or water sportsman and it’s PFD. Airlines call it another thing altogether. For this essay, I use life jacket and PFD as the latter is our household's vernacular. Clearly what’s colloquial can run the gamut.