The storm has arrived and I can’t bail fast enough to overtake the torrent of water filling the vessel containing my heart. As I work hard to stay afloat, I see an approaching tidal wave of water carrying the debris that I threw overboard the last time this happened. And then I remember. The water that rushes over me and takes me under, doesn’t keep me under forever. I’ve survived floods before. I do the best I can to stay clear of the current that carries the flotsam I’ve discarded many times before. I don’t want to get entangled in the debris that does nothing to help me stay afloat. I’ve worked hard to do those things that help me stay strong and keep my eyes focused on the shoreline. I fight to remember those practices that keep me seaworthy. They remind me that I can handle stormy weather and bolster my faith that it’ll be okay. Storms come and go with some bringing more flooding then others, but I eventually make it to shore like I’ve done many times before. So, I tread water and hold on knowing the water recedes and wait for the current of hope to take me ashore. Maybe this is how God teaches me to become a stronger, better swimmer.
I don’t particularly enjoy the lesson, but I do the best I can to tread water and paddle until it gets better. I accept the life preservers thrown my way by God and the team of angels here and above that encourage me to keep floating. The thing is, I am the only one that can hold on and choose to swim to a safer place. No one can move my body for me. I’ve got to dig deeply into my reserves and find a way. There are always things I can do or choices I can make as I struggle. I think, I pray and I problem solve, because making it to dry land requires that I rely on my own gifts, wit and what worked in previous swims ashore. At times I pause, float on my back and wait. I close my eyes and pull energy from the sky until I’m ready to swim again. I’m catching my breath, accepting, hanging on and remembering there is still so much life and fight in me as long as I’m floating face up. I may emerge walking onto the shore or allow the tide to roll me along and dump me on dry land. Either way, I have the opportunity to emerge a stronger, better swimmer, wiser and water-logged until I dry out and shed the weight of my experience. It’s how I move onward again and again. Sometimes, I creep out of the flood pissed off too. But until that passes, I hope I’ve learned something new about myself and accept the cycle of feelings that course through me as a light filled soul having a human experience.
Keeping my eyes on the beacons of light help illuminate my swim to safety and give strength to my tired limbs. I notice others treading water, floating or swimming too. Their struggle may be easier or harder than mine this time. I offer words of comfort, love and encouragement as best as I am able. I am a witness to their swim as they are to mine, noticing that this human migration from the flood of hard feelings to feelings easy to hold, is a reoccurring part of being alive. I can ask questions about their swim, knowing every human being has the potential to find their way and there’s always a meaningful story to tell about our individual journeys to a better place. I will never be able to swim for anyone else. We’d just get tangled up in the debris that we’re each trying to shed so both of us can swim forward and forge our own way. I hope to remember to look all my fellow shipwrecked swimmers in the eyes with compassion, understanding and mercy and send the message that we can hold on. I hope to exude that faith with every stroke I take and feel grateful for those around me who feed my hope when I’ve lost it among the barnacles sucking me dry. It’s only by faith that I’m reminded that when we all make it back to the shore again and again, that we’ll all have a beautiful and amazing story to tell. Keep swimming.
Questions/activities to ponder or good journal prompts!
- Think about the last time you recall “being flooded” with a feeling/s that pulled you under? What were those feelings and what circumstance lead to their occurrence?
- What practices and/or thoughts help remind you that the flood will recede? What practices and/or thoughts sink you further?
- Why is waiting so hard sometimes? What encourages your willingness to not rush a process?
- Have you ever endeavored to “solve” the problems of those around you? How did that go?
- Do you have faith in yourself, others or a higher power? Why or why not?
Kimberly Gruber 