Seduced By The Sea

"The fishermen know that the sea is dangerous and the storm terrible, but they have never found these dangers sufficient reason for remaining ashore." Vincent Van Gogh

Life has been a bit hectic over the last few months. I have been busy working with a friend to get a business we started 3 1/2 years ago off the ground. We founded the company with the hopes of eventually getting around to fully investing in it. At the time (2011) I was in grad school and he was still in the military. Then in April we found ourselves looking for new jobs and figured it was time to take off. What do we do? Unmanned and robotic technology. Portions of our business development involve underwater technology requiring that we form a scientific diving program. I have been working on several diving certifications for our program. The only regret I have is that I wish I had done it sooner. Diving is crazy fun! But then again I have always had an affinity for diving deep into things, whether it was ministry, career, culture, relationships, theology, or recreation. I love immersing in environments and fully experiencing what they offer in life - beauty, security, diversity, play, etc. I have always loved the sea. Until the age of 13 I shared a room with my little sister, but when I finally had my own room I decorated it entirely in a nautical theme. Ships, chests, knots, pressure gauges, sailor busts, and ocean paintings - I had it all. 16 years ago I started reading Clive Cussler books for fun and have escaped into the literary depths of underwater treasure hunting from time to time. I am not able to pass a shelf displaying his latest and greatest adventure without snatching it off the rack for purchase. And now I am living out the fantasy. But if you know me, you also know that I rarely do anything without scouring for relevant tidbits of knowledge and wisdom. Diving has brought to life several insights that I find are applicable across a wide variety of disciplines. 

1. Breathe continuously and never hold your breath. 

This sounds like an obvious point, but you would be surprised how easy it is to stop breathing underwater. Why? Instinct. We are conditioned from birth to associate being underwater with holding one's breath. It is natural. What is not natural is breathing underwater. Holding your breath creates several problems not the least of which is it starves the brain of oxygen and can lead to increased instances of panic, anxiety and irrational thinking. It took a lot of discipline for me to force myself to breathe continuously. I found myself holding my breath when I panicked, finally succumbing to gasps when need overcame fear. Eventually I learned to breathe continuously, but it took a great deal of discipline and focus. It is easy to be overwhelmed by environment (currents, pressures, tasks, distractions, scenery). Everything can be handled cooly and collectively if you remember one thing: breathe continuously. I have always likened breathing to prayer. A friend of mine pointed out once that the sounds of deep inhalation and exhalation reminded him of the name of God. Yah-weh. I found it to be a beautiful practice and made it part of my prayer life. The deeper the need for prayer, the greater and more audible the gasps for Him. Yet, if I remember to seek Him out, praying continuously, it is surprising how much less I worry and panic over things and the fewer instances where I find myself gasping for His help and presence. He is always there - I just forget.

2. Never dive alone.

Another obvious observation and also easy to ignore. Always have a buddy. Never, ever, dive alone. The odds of two of us making the same mistake are slim to none. Will we both make mistakes? Sure. However, you decrease the odds of mishaps when you have a buddy. Having a constant eye on your buddy helps to keep you oriented. In minimal visibility and increased pressure combined with neutral buoyancy, knowing which way is up can be difficult. Being able to reach out and touch someone for orientation is reassuring. On my second dive I descended too quick without equalizing. By the time I reached the bottom my head was pounding and my brain was foggy. It had been a windy week down on the lake and visibility was close to 5 feet. Not very reassuring at all. I could not see a thing. I grabbed my buddy's hand and would not let go. We started to swim, but it felt more like spinning. I felt like a one-eyed fish going in circles. A few minutes later nausea hit and signaled to surface. My buddy swam up with me and we took a surface break only to find out I'd burst some capillaries and was bleeding pretty bad. The nausea was from swallowing blood. Lovely. I took a two week break, went to visit my sister in Germany for a week and another week poking around the southern Colorado mountains. Since I rarely start anything I do not finish, I dove right back into the water when I returned. This time I knew better. I warned my diving buddy that I would be taking my sweet time on descent and I did. He stuck by my side the entire time. And that's what you do. You stick with your buddy. I noticed on this dive that one of the other divers was having a problem and being a reassuring presence suddenly became my task. Having to focus on the other diver prevented me from becoming self-absorbed in my own circumstances and forced me to help another. The application is that surrounding yourself with community minimizes fear, provides reassurance, and prevents self-centeredness. It's not all about me.

3. Vision distortion at depth.

Your eyes are the most sensitive organ to pressure changes. It is difficult to notice at the time due to the lack of pain/discomfort associated signals like that of the sinuses. The scenery loses its vividness, colors distort, and everything grows drab. Colorless and indistinct, the landscape can quickly disorient a diver. It all looks the same. Underwater photographers are particularly frustrated by this phenomenon as it makes it very difficult to see anything of note or photo worthy. The tendency then is to avoid taking pictures. But what you later learn is that all the colors are still there. My instructor showed me a color chart at depth. I recall looking at it and thinking to myself, "Ok, what's with all the brown blocks? What is he trying to tell me?" (No talking underwater - communication gets murky.) I shrugged it off. 40 ft. later he whipped out a bright color chart and I thought, "What's with all the charts?" (It was the same chart.) I found several applications for this experience. The first being that any dive to depth has the potential to distort your vision. You cannot tell your vision is distorted in the midst of it. It is only afterwards when you look back on the captured images that you truly recognize what you were going through. This is one of the reasons I write more when I am depressed. It helps me to stay oriented. Later on I am able to look back on the experience and realize that circumstances were not as dull as I recalled. One of the first questions counselors ask when you are struggling with depression is whether or not you have decreased interest in normal activities. Why? Because everything grows dim. Life pressures increase. You feel like you are drowning and nothing seems to have meaning or purpose anymore. How do you survive? You have to remember that the colors are still there. And so you take pictures. Lots and lots of pictures. You capture what is drab and dark and when you bring it to the surface you discover the most amazing and beautiful images imaginable. 

4. "Narcing out" 

"Narcing out" refers to nitrogen (or any gas) narcosis. It happens when you dive below 100 feet, although each diver's threshold is different. It feels very euphoric, but is extremely dangerous. Narcosis is the "rapture of the deep." Reactions to narcosis are varied. Some divers become relaxed and happy and fail to respond appropriately to present reality. Other divers can stress unduly over unrealistic threats and react impulsively. Most underwater training involves at least one dive that intentionally analyzes the effects of narcosis on an individual diver so that they are aware of how they react to the altered state of mind. I already warned my instructor of what I think my response will probably be. He better be a fast swimmer because I am a runner. I do not mean a runner in the sense of "I like to run." I am a runner in the sense that "I flee dangerous situations." If, in an altered state of mind, I perceive danger, I will run. The "happy" divers, however, will gladly cop a squat or lay down on the ocean floor and refuse to move or ascend. Each response is equally as dangerous and can result in death. The fact that I am aware of my tendency to run often prevents me from running. When I encounter threats or dangers in life I do not immediately seek escape. But that is a result of careful planning. I always plan my escape well in advance. Not much creates insurmountable panic for me anymore because I always have an exit plan. Maybe that's a result of my IT training. My mind tends to work out "if - then" scenarios frequently. Narcosis has some applications in other areas as well. Whenever I dive into an area, there is a real danger of going too deep, experiencing the euphoria and not surfacing. I find this happens a fair amount in theology. The greatest upset for me is the disconnect between theology and applicability. Theologians dive into the depths of Scripture and "narc out" on their findings and never surface to see how it plays out in the real world. This is not just about theology, but applies to any discipline that exists only in ideation. There is nothing wrong with dreaming, experiencing the highs of spiritual depths, or envisioning life the way you would like it to be. There is everything wrong with never acting on and applying those ideas to your life. I have met many individuals who dream in their heads, but never act in the interests of actualizing those dreams. That is not how we as humans are designed to function. We are designed to think, feel, and act. Too many people go through life "narced out" and never realize the full potential of their dreams. Others go through life incapable of envisioning a better future. If your 5-year plan today is the same as your plan 5 years ago, it may be time for a change. Either the ideal must change or actions much change; limbo is not an option. This handicap plagues the Church greatly. We live in ideals of "one day...," but we fail to take action to make that one day today. We live in the limbo of "He's coming back so let's just inactively ride it out." Or we take up whatever random activist cause fits our fancy without holding it up to the light of our future vision. I do not want either. I want to dive to great depths, actualize my dreams, and live life to the fullest. Making your dreams happen is a discipline and one I hope to cultivate more. 

5. Exhalation and "puffing up."

I saved this point for last although it could easily be worked into breathing continuously. One of my dives incorporated a CESA (Controlled Emergency Swimming Ascent). The trick to a well-executed CESA is exhalation. Air expands as it rises. When you ascend in the water the air in your lungs expands and if you are ascending quickly with air-filled lungs they can burst. Ascent changes should be gradual, but if necessary, a CESA prevents "puffing up." It reminded me of "puffed up" christianity and arrogance. "Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up." (1 Cor 8:1 see context). We're all in danger of it. Especially when we do not acclimate properly to our surroundings or take into account the differences in cultures and individuals. We impose our "superiority" on others and desire a quick ascent to recognition. We ignore the wisdom of gradual ascent and most importantly - exhalation. I have seen too many ascend too quickly and it never goes well. They "puff up" and burst, scattering fragments and debris, wreaking havoc in their wake. Exhalation is a sign of release. Of expression. We exhale when we are singing, speaking, exercising, or playing an instrument. If you are intent on ascent, yet fail to take the time to exhale, you will cause irreparable damage. Exhalation is surrender. You surrender your panic, your fears, your pride.

There is so much more to add. This is enough for now. Even if you never dive, I hope you can at least apply some of the insights to your present life. As for me, I have fallen for the sea and all she has to offer. I will be heading to Honduras this next month for a research diving trip. Yeah, I know. Life's rough. Roatan, here I come!