The Most Interesting Thing About Being a Scuba Diving Instructor Happened After I Quit
I thought the best years were behind me, but I was wrong
Much of my adult life has been defined by two events — the first time I breathed underwater and the first time I did a breathwork session. This post is about both, although they happened seven years apart.
My First Scuba Diving Experience
I remember it well. I had just signed up for my first course, and after lifting all the heavy equipment onto my back, placing the already foggy mask over my face, and shuffling my way to the edge of the boat, I wondered if I’d made a grave mistake.
There was no turning back at that point, so I took a few quick, panicked breaths before jumping in the water and feeling the first drops of ocean seep through my wetsuit.
Upon surfacing, I made sure to give the “OK” sign, which is expected of every diver who feels safe enough to do so, even though this was far from my truth. The truth was it was 8 am, I was about to explore the Great Barrier Reef for the first time, and I was crapping myself.
As I descended into the deep blue and took my first few breaths underwater, however, I knew my life had changed. There’s something…
