Breathing Underwater

Life is like liv­ing on the edge of the ocean in the times of Noah. You notice that the water just keeps get­ting deeper. This is where the par­al­lel to Noah stops and the pas­toral coun­sel­ing begins: Sooner or later you can­not keep your head above water. The inter­nal and exter­nal demands just become too much. Your will power fails and you go under. This too is where the good news begins: You dis­cover that you can breathe under­wa­ter. Life some­how goes on and you still function.

I first heard this lit­tle para­ble at a sem­i­nar in Albu­querque, New Mex­ico (when I lived there and spent a year in a very strange “sab­bat­i­cal”). The para­ble can apply to all sorts of life sit­u­a­tions. You get news that your job is end­ing (plants are clos­ing all over the coun­try). You find out that peo­ple close to you have hid­den health issues. This type of list is com­mon and can go on for pages. No mat­ter what your list may be, one day you dis­cover that you really can­not get it all done — or even get your mind around it.

They say that at a cer­tain point in drown­ing there is per­fect peace. I am not plan­ning to find this out first­hand. These few para­graphs are about a metaphor of mind and Spirit. You really can do the impos­si­ble. I am not talk­ing about “leap­ing tall build­ings in a sin­gle bound” but about keep­ing your head when you feel hope­lessly behind or overwhelmed.

The key to this is in the key word “breath­ing” when you do not think you can. It is pretty sim­ple: You take a breath — deep and long — right when it all falls apart. The planet keeps revolv­ing. You dis­cover your Spirit’s mar­velous capac­i­ties for the first time in a long time, and you relax in faith.