The liberation of living life while loving death

Under the Sea

Life.

In the beginning we could not swim and with the analogy that life is a river, we felt like drowning. We struggled with keeping our head over the water, not knowing what to do with either arms or legs, and for some of us, nobody even told us that we have to learn how to swim. So we got used to the life of struggle, fighting, and the tiredness that came along..Reasonably though, since all we could see was other people struggling, fighting and being tired. And maybe we kept on in empathy to make the best of it together. Some even made it into a competition to see who could be ‘the best struggler’. To drown or not to drown…

Then at one point, the current of life became stronger and forced us to move down the river. The river became wider and so did our minds and we would see other creatures like swimmers, floaters, divers and those who actually drowned. Oh the horror, it was true, one could actually drown. Good thing we struggled to stay alive.

With this fear of drowning so embodied, to even think of becoming a floater was too far from our own perception and experience. The complete opposite in fact. So why bother going there? Why act like a fool? I mean you could die! They were not even fighting! They were not doing anything.. If I thought of stopping the struggle, the work, my doings, the image of me sinking to the bottom as a stone immediately came to mind.

But to become a swimmer, that looked more manageable.

So I got a teacher, I tried on my own, I learned techniques, and oh boy were there many of them. You had crawlers, back-strokers, dog-paddling (which reminded me very much of my original ‘try not to drown’-technique) butterfly, chest stroke, you name it. And within every method there were a million different ways and opinions on which were the best ones.

While learning all of this, I seemed to think less of drowning. I was distracted with focus. And it was fun also, due to all the variations. But the image of sinking to the bottom, were still in there, somewhere. So I got into diving. Now, this was something else. This was deep..

I could not only face my fear of sinking to the bottom by willingly going there, but it also felt more relaxing (once I got over the fear of not breathing, of course). Here I was using my body less. The muscles could relax and so could the brain. This is also what helped me overcome the panic of breathing and no-breathing. I learned to control my breath, just to let it go again.

After spending a lot of time under the surface, scanning the bottom of the sea, exploring the vastness and all the creatures and beauty of the ocean, I started to feel safe, confident, connected. I fell in love with what I once feared. But this feeling, this perspective, made me forget the beauty of the surface and I also started to resent it. The chaos and noise. Something I once was so accustomed to. But I had finally found peace and stillness, you know?! I wanted to be in that forever. The only problem was that I could not hold my breath for that long. How could I fix that?

We went through extremes to find ways and methods to extend and hold our breath forever. We tried it all. And suddenly I noticed a very familiar feeling, or should we call it a tension? good old buddy Struggle.

I had actually started a struggle to stay alive UNDER the water.

I had to go up and face the surface.

In the beginning it was a fight. A fight to change everything. I wanted the land to be like the ocean. I wanted the chaotic waves to become like the silent deep waters. I protested, went on strike, got involved with all kinds of groups, became artistic and rebellious. I did all these things to make a difference, to introduce the worlds to each other, but still this sense of struggling was nagging in the back of my head. And after trying, everything, I got so tired. I got tired of diving, swimming, fighting, exploring. I got so tired of trying, that I finally surrendered.

Death.

I had gotten to know the bottom of the sea, due to my curiosity and fear of missing out and fear of boredom. I learned how to be a student and a teacher of swimming, due to the fear of dying and the empathy of my fellow strugglers. I had gotten to know the cruelty, diversity and harshness of the world above the ocean, due to my anger and eagerness to change.

I was no longer afraid of ending up anywhere. I did not even want to end up anywhere. I was willing to die. I surrendered again!

And this is how I became a floater. What I once thought to be impossible. Even arrogant. With my trust to the ocean, I could rest my back upon it, not fearing some creature would attack me from underneath. Why would it? They were my friends down there. No longer having a preference of waves or stillness, I could enjoy the harmony and reason for all currents. With this ease, feeling safe, I could take time to enjoy. And so I learned to see God in every creation. I took time to practice finding ease, joy and good in all my surroundings. Above the surface, below it, in the middle of it and finally also as it. The freedom in thinking I could stay here floating forever washed over me like a caressing wave of love and safety, and in the same moment I felt free to go where ever, do whatever, and be whomever.

I experienced my truth, I experienced liberation.

I had gotten to know the bottom of the sea, due towhatever, and be whom ever. I experienced my truth, I experienced liberation.