It’s some primitive fear that stops me from feeling the sea. I stretch, withdraw and stretch again, but the moment the icy waters of the Arabian sea rise to kiss my feet, a strange thrill creeps through me. My brain is torn between accepting the moment or fleeing from it. Our environment has evolved but perhaps the brain hasn’t, you see. It still fears the unknown. It fears anything that’s different from me. It is panic-stricken at the thought of leaving its comfort zone, of accepting something it’s trained to avoid. What if the sea drags me into it? What if I lose my hold or fall through the railings? What if…? It takes a long time for me to tell myself that I am on a boat that’s strong and steady. I am with people who know what they are doing. I must learn to let go — not just my fear of the sea but of all things foreign to me.