There are several metaphors dealing with water that can help us during especially stressful times. Each of these metaphors can help us to develop a quality related to mindfulness as opposed to staying mired in old, habitual ways of dealing with these types of situations. An important reminder is to remember that it’s not either-or, that we either develop the quality or we stay in the old habits.
Tsunami: Discernment vs. delusion
Many of us have seen images of tsunamis causing so much destruction and loss of life. What you might not know is how many animals sense tsunamis and get to higher ground. I remember reports from the 2004 Indonesia tsunami which caused over 200,000 deaths. People on the recovery operation were struck at how few bodies of animals were found. The message here is paying attention.
Another message is being aware of delusion: “I can deal with this;” “I’m going to stand my ground;” “I can take it.” And then of course you get swept away. So a different kind of paying attention is called for when we sense delusion.
In a physical tsunami, the obvious advice is to get to higher ground. Metaphorically, we can bring mindfulness to the panic that the tsunami can bring and ask ourselves “where will I be safer?” or “what can I do so that there will be less damage from this crisis?” Perhaps, “I need to ask friends/family for help” or “I need a break.”
Riptide: Surrender vs. fighting
More than 100 people a year in the US die from rip currents and rip tides, and tens of thousands more are rescued by lifeguards.
Every year the Weather Channel gives the same instructions: if you are caught in a rip current or rip tide, let go, let it carry you out. When the current is less, swim horizontal to shore until you are able to swim back to shore.
It is so hard to surrender, to rest when you see that you are being pulled out to sea. So easy to panic.
Knowledge is helpful: these currents never pull you under. If you know this and believe it, then you can relax and rest until the current subsides enough so that you can safely swim to shore.
This metaphor was so helpful to me in 2012 with the diagnosis that my prostate cancer needed strong measures. The diagnosis was in July, but the operation was not until October and the all–clear blood test was not until December. While there were more than a few moments of terror and panic during this time, mindfulness enabled me to often rest and let go. One of the biggest epiphanies from this time was a little voice that asked: “If not now, when?” This was in response to aspects of my life I was working on: impatience, resentment, anxiety, etc. If I’m not going to change now, when will I?
Storms on the ocean: while at sea or while anchored in a harbor
There are several practices that can help during storms:
• Paying attention: asking “what is needed now during the storm?”
• This too shall pass: remember times of calm.
• Having faith that you will survive.
• Specific practices: breathe, take a break, asking what nourishes me, for example, taking a walk.
Being on the ocean during a storm: Perspective vs. helplessness
Specific to the metaphor of a storm at sea is to imagine a rock at the bottom of the ocean. It is so quiet and still there. While a part of you is being tossed about by the waves, can a part of you feel the calm and quiet at the bottom of the ocean?
Anchor: Practice vs. white knuckling
When you are feeling the storm’s fury, the boat won’t go adrift if it has a strong anchor. Part of the practice is to catch yourself when you are white knuckling, and then you can breathe and sense what would be most useful in this moment.
One practice that was especially useful to several participants in the course I taught several years ago on chronic pain was to ask: “can I be with or tolerate the pain in this moment” as opposed to “can I do this for the next four hours or next day?” Many people have found that they can be with it in this moment. While it is not pleasant, it is not unendurable.
Turning an ocean liner: patience vs. forcing
This metaphor is useful when you have decided on a change but it’s not going to happen immediately: you’re going to move, look for a new job, end a relationship, etc.
Imaging an ocean liner or aircraft carrier or supertanker that needs to make a 180 degree turn. While walking, you can turn around in less than a second. When driving, if there is no traffic, you can do a U-turn in less than 20 seconds. However, imagine a supertanker on the ocean needing to make a 180-degree turn—it takes so much longer.
The practice here is patience. A useful question is: what will help me to stay present during this time rather than just holding my breath and waiting?
People I know who have served in the armed forces talk about being a short-timer: less than two months before discharge. Many said that this was so uncomfortable, like holding their breath for two months. The good news is that such times are wonderful opportunities to develop patience.
Remembering these metaphors and the images they bring can calm us down enough so that we can apply and deepen practices that are helpful at those times.