The Shark That Was Never There

Our minds tell us stories every day. Some protect us. Others quietly steal our peace. The challenge is learning to tell the difference. How many beautiful moments have we lost because we believed a fear that never came true?

I have always loved the sea. Give me a pair of goggles and I disappear into another world. Hours pass without me noticing. I watch schools of fish drift by, crabs hiding beneath rocks, and rays buried beneath the sand. As the waves gently lift and lower my body, the rest of the world simply disappears.

This is my meditation.

Whenever I am in the sea, I feel completely at peace.

That afternoon was no different.

After coming out of the water, I picked up my phone and saw that my mum had called. She was in Austria.

"The news says there was a shark attack somewhere," she said. "Promise me you won't swim alone."

I smiled and assured her I would be careful. We said goodbye, and I walked back towards the water.

But something had changed.

Only a minute earlier, I had been floating peacefully, completely present. Now my mind was filled with images of sharks. I found myself wondering what would happen to my husband, and especially to my two children waiting back at the hotel, if something happened to me.

It was remarkable how a conversation lasting less than a minute could steal a peace that had taken hours to find.

I stepped into the water anyway.

With every stroke, my imagination became louder.

What if a shark is nearby?

What if today is the day something terrible happens?

I stopped swimming and looked around. My heartbeat had quickened. For a brief moment, I was convinced I saw a dark shape moving through the water.

Then I realised what was happening.

My mind was creating a story.

I knew what I had to do.

I had to do the opposite.

I took another stroke and kept swimming.

I smiled to myself.

"Fine," I thought. "If there is a shark today, so be it. If this is how my story ends, then it ends. But I will not let fear decide how I live."

So I kept swimming.

The fearful thoughts stayed with me for a while, but gradually they became quieter.

Until they disappeared altogether.

There was no shark.

The only shark swimming beside me was the one my mind had created.

That day reminded me of something I keep learning over and over again.

Not every thought deserves to be believed.

How often do we assume someone is unfriendly before we've even spoken to them?

How often do we convince ourselves that we aren't good enough, that we've failed, or that life would have been better if only we had made different choices?

Most of the suffering we experience doesn't come from reality itself.

It comes from the stories our minds create about reality.

Thoughts are like visitors.

They knock on the door of our mind all day long.

Some deserve to come in.

Many do not.

The beautiful thing is that we get to choose.

We cannot always control the thoughts that appear, but we can decide whether to welcome them or simply let them pass.

Not every thought deserves a seat at our table.

Perhaps the greatest freedom in life is not having a peaceful mind all the time.

Perhaps it is learning that we don't have to believe everything our mind tells us.

The mind speaks. The heart knows. Learn to tell the difference.
— Lara Kay