Learning to Swim December 6, 2010
Posted by gerrystarnes in General, Learnings.2 comments
The Diving In article began as an invitation to “start where you are and jump in anytime” in answering the questions I often get about where to begin and what to do first. It turned instead into a provocative analogy about encountering the sometimes very challenging transformative potential of personal work.
In comments, emails, and even phone calls, it is clear that the article struck a chord for several readers. The deep level of personal work expressed by that analogy appears to be something people long for, but are also fearful of. Their comments and questions, as well as my own reaction to the article, led me on an odyssey of my own.
The Deep End
Looking at photographs of Deep Eddy pool in Austin, you can see there are several zones where people congregate: the shallows, the mid-water, and the deep end. For the most part, the only ones in the deep end are swimming laps or sitting along the edge, slipping in for an occasional refreshing dip.
If I were a real swimmer, I would be a solitary swimmer. Most of my time in a swimming pool is spent in the water just deeper than that of families playing with their children, which puts me in proximity to that place where the warmer shallow water sinks into the colder deep and tends to pull me in. I find it to be an exciting sensation, though I do not want to “get in over my head,” so am cautious.
Learning to Swim
When I was perhaps six or seven years old, I took swimming lessons one summer in order to keep me from drowning should I fall into a pool or into the lake, where I loved to fish with my grandparents. The class always began in belly-deep water, warming up and playing. Inevitably, we would go to the deep end where we learned to dive and swim.
The first thing we learned was called the “dead man’s float.” Lying face down in the water, I would relax my arms and legs and simply float buoyed by the air in my lungs and torso. Frankly, it was my favorite thing to do in class and I could float that way longer than anyone else. It was peaceful and I felt perfectly safe. In fact, it was the only time I felt safe in the deep end.
I could also float face up, but not so comfortably. Something about the buoyancy and distribution of weight of my body makes me float low enough on the surface that water splashes onto my face, and unless I constantly kick my feet to stay horizontal, my legs sink and drag me down. That sends me into a mild but formidable panic.
If you drop a needle horizontal onto water in a glass, the surface tension makes it float. But if you drop that same needle vertically into the glass it sinks instantly. The same is true of a body in water or in quicksand. Horizontal, you float; vertical, you sink. I was terrified of sinking quickly and uncontrollably in deep water.
Another thing that I enjoy is slipping beneath the surface and looking up at the sunlight above. Even though I tend to sink, this is actually quite difficult to do unless your lungs are empty. Holding air in my lungs makes it impossible to stay under the water, so I have push myself down against a ladder’s rung.
My ideal would be to sink to the bottom of the pool, while connected to the surface by a good, strong hose for air.
The Not-doing of Drowning
In reflecting on Diving In and my personal history of swimming, I was reminded of the teaching of Don Juan Matus, as reported by Carlos Castaneda, regarding “not-doing”. A way to describe not-doing is to think of understanding a leaf, not by looking at its top surface, but from underneath. Lucid dreaming is the not-doing of ordinary dreaming.
The not-doing of drowning is not escaping drowning, but rather being aware of not drowning, even when being overwhelmed by water.
The same is true in relation to an encounter with Power in the personal development process. At some point, when you are ready, when you reach a certain edge of your comfort zone, that process, in alignment with your intention for change and in cahoots with Spirit, may very well drag you into the deep end. That experience may be either exciting or terrifying, or both at the same time. The difference between the two is determined by fear.
“In a sense, your old self drowns so you can swim.” The not-doing of drowning has to do with letting go of what is overwhelming you. Though you may be in the throes of a spiritual crisis, it is not Spirit that is immobilizing. The part of your old self that has to die is fear.
There is a way to be with fear in order to overcome it: surrender to it. The “dead man’s float,” in which you stop resisting the panic and relax into the natural buoyancy of your body, can save your life. Similarly, the natural buoyancy of your soul can save you in a spiritual crisis.
When things become overwhelming, get horizontal, breathe, relax every part of your body that you can. Once your awareness is in the present moment your mind can let go of fear and the panic in your body can subside. Then you can find the best next thing to do, and do it. Take action! Eventually, you will become accustomed to the deeper water and become a stronger swimmer.
The Bottom of the Pool
As mentioned before, one of the things I enjoy about being in a pool is looking up from underneath the surface to the light and sky above. For me, it is enrapturing. Personally, I believe I would remain at the bottom of the pool for long periods of time if I had a way to breathe: a long, secure tube that connected me to the air above. With that support, I would not be afraid.
When asked, people who are in that state of overwhelming fear say they feel they have lost their sense of connection to Spirit. They have lost their ability to breathe; they feel that they are drowning and they are. They are afraid, holding their breath and running out of oxygen, and they have forgotten something very important:
Spirit is always with you, even when you don’t feel it’s life-saving tube to the surface nearby.
The ideal in a deeply spiritual life is not to be detached, dispassionate, and never afraid. Spirituality is a state of being fully engaged in the moment, whatever that moment might give rise to. It is to be aware wherever you are in the pool – the shallows, the playful middle, the deep end – that you are connected to Spirit. It is always there, present, with you.
As with learning to swim, part of learning to be in such equanimity with Spirit and to be prepared for falling into the deep end is to dive in to it, on purpose, as many times as you can.
Diving In December 3, 2010
Posted by gerrystarnes in General, Learnings.add a comment
People sometimes say that they have been interested in personal change for many years. They’ve read the books and taken the seminars, but for some reasons or others, they have just not been able to begin the “real work.”
Where do I start?
What do I do first?
When is the best time to get started?
The best answer I have is “Start where you are. Dive right in! and there is no time like Right Now.”
Easier said than done, right? But really, you have no choice. You cannot begin anywhere other than where you are, and you cannot act in any time except the present moment. So wherever you are, whenever you are, is perfect.
Now, diving in is a different matter. It takes fierce courage and determination to cut through old beliefs and patterns to effect change. You can begin in the shallow end, if you want to. Yet real change will not happen until you are deep in it, well over your head, overwhelmed. Your old beliefs, your old way of being in the world changes. In a sense, your old self drowns so you can swim.
Stepping into the shallow end of the pool is generally OK. It is relatively warm and you can wade about freely. A little deeper is fun. You can swim, duck under the surface, and be assured that you can come up at any time. You are still in control, still in your place of mastery.
At a certain point as you go into deeper water you realize that the bottom of the pool is not quite as accessible anymore. You can no longer be certain of your footing, and you cannot stand with your head above the surface. You notice that the deeper water is actually tugging at you, pulling you even deeper!
It is then that many make their way back to shallower, safer water, or leave the pool entirely. Some determined few, however, continue onward, knowing full well what lies ahead. For them it is finally time either to swim or to die.
It is true that personal development work cannot be controlled. The ways in which your life will change are unpredictable. Unless you are ready for change in every aspect of your life, you will undoubtedly encounter the strong desire to give up, to leave the pool entirely.
Perhaps knowing this, others choose a different way: Diving right in. The only way for them is to commit, to dive right into the deep end and all that might entail. It is a fearsome, courageous act, which pits them against everything that has ever stood in their way all at once.
Many times, they are some of those who have tried the slower, “safer” way and decided to leave the pool. Perhaps they read the books and took the workshops, but could never quite find the way to integrate the information into daily experience. Everyday demands and routines are powerful distractions. Or perhaps their lives began to change in very uncomfortable ways that forced them out … temporarily.
The reason you are reading this article is that you feel the pull, the inexorable need for change in your life, for your personal growth and development. The urge is both seductive and demanding, and the time is always now. The place to begin is always right where you are.
The only question is whether to begin in the shallow end, determined to make it into the deep water, or to dive right in. The reality is that it doesn’t matter. There is no right choice, only your choice. And it also doesn’t matter if you have tried before and given up. You will return to the pool one way or another.
Once you begin the journey of self-discovery, you can never really stop, can you?
