This past summer, my boys and I went tubing. As we climbed onto the inflatable, the boat’s owner, Matt, gave us one crucial piece of advice: " I’m going to go really fast, and when it gets to be too much, your instinct will be to hold on. But that’s when I need you to let go. Don’t fight it—just let go. " My nephew, Grant, turned to me, eyes wide. " This is not going to work for me," he said. "I am not going to be able to let go ." Matt, suddenly serious, looked at him and said, " Grant, if you don’t let go, you could get really hurt. I’ve seen guys dislocate their shoulders. Just let go ." The boys did great. They whipped around, held on tight—and didn’t let go. Not me. I lasted only a few minutes. There’s video evidence. It shows me being tossed from side to side before finally surrendering. The moment I let go, I’m airborne—terrified, flailing. And then, as I hit the water, you can see it on my face: relief. I swam back to the tube and climb...
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