The Jump: A Letter to Artists About Fear and Freedom

Because life is much more fun when you get in the water.

My family and me when I was 10.

Dear Artist,

When I was 10 years old, my mom and I spent a summer in Portugal. We stayed with her best friend, Manaz, in a beautiful seaside home near Lisbon.

Every morning, I’d walk to the ocean. There was a rocky stretch along the shore—not exactly a beach, since there was no sand. Just people, sprawled across sun-warmed stones. It was beautiful.

And every morning, I would inch my way to the edge of those rocks, convinced that today was the day I would finally jump into that crystal-clear water.

The drop? Maybe a foot.

I can still see my toes curled over the edge. As I hear the chatter of families behind me and feel the warmth of the sun on my skin, 10-year-old Darius starts counting down, “Three… two… one…”

Nothing.

“Three… two… one…”

Still, nothing.

I did this every day for three whole weeks.

The longer I stood there, the colder the water seemed. The higher the jump felt. The scarier the whole thing became. Eventually, I found some steps leading into the water and took the easy way down, abandoning the mission altogether.

We flew back home to Toronto at the end of summer break. And, like most childhood memories, our Portugal trip slowly faded.

Except for one thing:

The fear.

I carried it home with me. This feeling of hesitation took root and started to fester, and even shape who I was. For years, any time I stood at the edge of a pool or a lake, I was right back on those rocks—trapped in indecision, hijacked by fear and doubt.

Breaking the Pattern

When I was 30 years old, I found myself at this wacky experience called Camp Reset. And for some reason, on that very first day, I decided I was done waiting.

I walked right up to the pool and—without hesitation—dove right into the water. It was cold, but I didn’t care.

Because I was tired of standing at the edge.

And I finally understood that the longer you wait, the colder the water gets. The higher the jump feels. The scarier it all seems. And the more miserable you become.

In that moment, I made a promise to myself:

“From now on, I will be the first person to jump. Any pool, any lake, any ocean. No overthinking, no hesitation; just jump in.”

I’m not saying to be reckless. I’m not telling you to do something unsafe. But in this case, let’s be real: these were safe places to swim.

And even though the fear felt so real, I was just tired of letting it win.

Because life? It’s so much more fun when you get in the water.

Your Turn to Jump

Of course, this isn’t really about swimming.

The truth—the one I resisted for so long—is wrapped up in a quote I still love and hate in equal measure:

How we do one thing is how we do everything.

The water was never the problem. The water was just a mirror. A symbol of how willing I was to step toward my dreams.

And this quote—one I actually love—sums it up perfectly:

Ready is not a feeling; ready is a decision.

So, let me ask you:

Is there a pool you’re ready to jump into this year?

Is there a place in your life where you’re done waiting to feel ready?

No matter how small, how silly, how audacious—reply to this email and share.

And if you’re not ready to share the details yet, just send me a message saying:

“Darius, I’m ready to jump.”

I promise I won’t ask questions.

I also promise to say a prayer for anyone who replies and lets me know they’re ready.

Big love,

D

—

Darius Bashar
HEARTshots™ Photographer + Founder
Artist, Creator, Meditator | ArtistMorning.com™