Many years ago, as I struggled with PTSD following an employee committing fraud and then dying by suicide, my husband took me by the hand to an old rowing machine he’d placed outside. It was raining, yet he told me to sit down and row. I thought he was crazy.
But at that point nothing made sense so I did what he said. At first it was so hard and painful. My body didn’t want to cooperate. The rain was cold. I felt sad, defeated, and lost.
As I focused on the movement, all my muscles clenched to get the cold and wet machine to work, something amazing happened. I started to feel calm. I started to breathe again. The rain falling on my face reminded me that I was alive.
I only managed to complete 10 pulls that day, but I was hooked. Rowing became my outlet and a dependable form of therapy.
Fast forward a few years and we bought a cabin on a lake 5 hours away from our house. And then we bought a little old red row boat. It didn’t take me long to learn how to row on water instead of a machine, and I’ve since spent hundreds of hours rowing around the lake.
Sometimes the water is rough and rowing takes all my strength and focus. Other times the lake is smooth as glass and I feel like I am floating as I glide along. Always though, I feel strong and most at peace when I am on the water in that little red row boat.
A few years ago my lake neighbours captured a stunning picture of me rowing at sunset. I shared the picture with a friend recently and she commented “Everyone is told to visualize a happy place they feel safe, and you have an actual photo of it”.
Do you have a place you feel strong and safe? I’d love to hear about it in the comments.
