Below the Surface

Photo by Cristian Álvarez via Unsplash

I spend a lot of time lately talking to people about being positive, working hard on my health and fitness, all in an effort to make the most of the life I have and hoping to survive this battle I’m in with cancer. But it’s not all sunshine and optimism. This last month has been perhaps the hardest for me I’ve had in a very long time for many reasons, which has had me feeling stuck below the surface holding my breath trying to break free. Emotionally and physically, it’s been taxing. This morning I was reflecting on a few life experiences in my youth that seemed to relate to how I’ve felt.

When I was a younger I was a pretty active kid. You know the type, more like a Calvin and Hobbes exploring the neighborhood and surrounding adventures than inside playing with toys. As a result I was a naturally thin, wiry build. When I later was put through the traditional swimming lessons so I could enjoy the water safely, I found a new frustration in the required floating exercises. I discovered I didn’t float.

Well that’s not completely true. I could float about a foot under the water.

I mean how can you not do the dead man’s float? I would get in the correct position and slowly sink until I was straight upright and well under the water. I just didn’t naturally have the body fat required and my muscle density was thick enough to just weight me down in relation to my overall body composition.

My mom used to joke “Honey, you’re just dense.” Gee, thanks mom. ;)

While it was frustrating to not be able to accomplish the floating requirement for my classes, I would hold my breath and try again and again. Later in life I’ve been able to float a little easier if you get my drift (pun intended) but it’s been something that’s stuck with me and had a little bit of life application.

Fast forward to another experience in my early 20s. I had recently returned from my LDS mission and decided to take a sea kayaking trip to southern Washington with my brother and his friend. It had been a couple of years since I had done any serious kayaking and I was excited to get out in the ocean and try to bring back the skills. We went to Ocean Shores for a weekend camping and on the water.

After a few forays into the surf and beyond, I was coming back from an excursion a bit further out into the open water. While coming back a storm front was quickly forming behind me, so I was adding a little extra speed and effort to get back to shore. As I approached the surf before the shore I realized I was in trouble. The waves had swelled to around 10 feet and were crashing hard. There was no choice but to push in and hope for the best.

It started out ok as I pushed over a few swells and keep the boat directed to the shore. Then finally as I approached the point of breakers a wave caught me from behind forcing me to try and ride the crest as best I could. While a bit exhilarating feeling the sensation of surfing in a kayak, that was short lived. In a 19 foot boat it’s terribly hard to keep it pointed in the right direction with a 10 foot wave pushing you from behind. My boat quickly turned sideways and spun into the crest of the wave a washing machine action.

I was stuck and the boat flipped me under. I rolled back to the surface, but by the sheer force of the wave I was turned over and over again unable to extract myself from the boat. Catching a partial breath with each turn I tried unsuccessfully again and again to get free. I lost count how many time I was thrashed around in the spin, but finally with everything I had I pulled free, scraping my side along the boat as it continued to turn.

I was immediately thrown to the bottom with the force the the wave, tumbling head over heels, completely disoriented as to which way was up or down. When I finally hit bottom I pushed off and headed upward, eventually breaking to the surface with a huge gasp trying to take in as much oxygen as possible. Only that moment passed far too quickly as the next wave crashed into me, sending me back to the bottom.

All energy was completely gone and I was quickly losing my wits as I didn’t get enough air. Fortunately I was wearing a good life jacket which pulled me back to the surface, only to get hit again by wave after wave. This happened perhaps a dozen times. I’m only guessing because I lost count. I had nothing left in the tank and was completely relying on that floatation to keep me going long enough to grab another quick breath each time. After what felt like an eternity I finally drifted in close enough to shore to be past the heavy waves.

I couldn’t even stand up I was so so completely depleted. My side was scraped and immediately bruised from chest to foot. Fortunately my brother and his friend had seen this all from shore and were running into the surf to retrieve me. They pulled me in and gathered up my kayak and paddle which were far away from me. The reality is…I nearly died. The waves had overwhelmed me. I had nothing left to fight.

That experience left me with a healthy respect for the power of the ocean. Every time I go in the surf now I have a bit of a fear in the back of my head as I get pulled by an undertow or even the force of a wave that makes me feel a little out of control. Nothing like a full phobia, but that little bit of memory of when I was that close to losing a battle with forces greater than me and saved only by a life preserver.

An unfortunate interaction about a month ago took place that shook me up pretty good. It was an emotional hit in a way I wasn’t expecting and had me questioning some recent choices and decisions I’d made. Those things happen and typically it’s just a matter of getting past them and moving on. This one hit me harder than most though, and until recently I wasn’t quite sure why. For the most part I was just thrown off and wondering if I’d made a really unfortunate choices on some decisions with work and projects, but more than that it undermined my confidence. My optimism was shaking and I started to feel like those times in my youth when I just couldn’t stay afloat. I wasn’t up to the task. I wasn’t good enough and expectations were exceeding my abilities. I felt like I was hanging out a foot underwater and unable to reach the surface. I wasn’t just struggling to catch a breath, I wasn’t breathing.

The real downside is the way I was feeling was unraveling the progress I had made physically and emotionally. I have felt it eroding away and that kind of effect can quickly snowball. Building momentum in the wrong direction and picking up speed. Treading water when you can’t float is especially hard. You have to work harder just to stay above the surface. And when your swimming endurance isn’t great and you are working hard, that bit of fear starts to creep in. What if I can’t keep afloat? What if I can’t keep doing this day after day? What if I can’t do what everyone is expecting I can do?

The reality is when you are underwater and unable to keep up, it’s the fears that make it seem worse than what it really is. Or at least it feels that way. That’s what happens when your confidence takes a hit, the optimism or belief in yourself isn’t helping push you past the obstacles.

So beneath my surface, that’s how I’ve been feeling recently. Beneath the surface of where I need to be, trying hard not just to tread water, but to reach a point where I feel like I’m treading water. It’s a tough reality to admit, but in my effort to be transparent there it is. A neighbor mentioned last night I haven’t been writing updates as often, and I confessed I haven’t even had the mental space I could afford to sit down and write a few thoughts. So this morning after my spin class efforts when I can let my thoughts wander and contemplate how I’m feeling, I figured I’d sit down and write a bit of my stream of consciousness. It’s not all that bad when I step back and extract myself from the feelings a bit and write it down. Perhaps that’s why I do actually enjoy writing some of these thoughts. It’s my own bit of therapy to write it all out, like a confession of sorts. Being honest with myself how I feel and what I’m trying to accomplish. It doesn’t mean anything has changed, but I am better able to see the big picture and realize this is just a part of the greater journey.

What’s kept me going through all these downs without the ups is my daily routine. It’s the rolling out of bed at 5:10am even when I don’t feel even a bit like doing that. Going to the spin classes, hot yoga and weights every darn day, especially when I don’t feel like it. That’s when I need it most. Just being there is pushing a little harder than I’d like, and giving me the push I need to get through the next day.

Life hasn’t gotten easier, but perhaps my outlook is improving again giving me the mental state I need to tackle the hard stuff. Better looking at the challenges as opportunities to rise to the occasion rather than seemingly insurmountable obstacles. That’s the goal, and getting a few priorities in the rearview mirror help to feel that way.

So that’s about it. Not sunshine and roses, but also not a cry for help. I’ve got good support, I’ve great family and I’m doing fine. It’s just a bit of reality when not everything is going how I’d like. You just keep pushing agains the rock, hoping to move it up the hill but getting stronger in the process even if the rock doesn’t move. Just a little more, just a little stronger. Each day, that’s all I can ask, and that’s what I’m trying to do. I think that’s often all we can ask of ourselves.

I start today, this week looking forward again with some renewed optimism. A few priorities are accomplished after a hard weekend of extra effort. I still have a huge hill in front of me with some big tasks on the docket. It’s not going to be easy, but I feel more like I can do it again. It’s a good feeling to start to have that confidence and optimism back.