Life Lessons from the Sea # 15: Ten Tips for Staying Afloat When You Feel Like You're Drowning

Dragon floatie photo by Jeff Sandquist

Years ago, I went swimming in the ocean with my husband, Matt, and our two small children, along with several other families. I mostly stayed near the shore with our two-year-old, Chad, while Matt rode the bigger waves with Amanda, our six-year-old, splashing beside him in her life vest. For a long time, Chad and I were content digging in the sand, building castles, searching for shells or racing small waves. But eventually, one or the other of us (probably me) wanted to play in the deep with everyone else.

Chad wore a life jacket, one of those full-body kinds, but it must’ve been a tad big, because it rode up around his shoulders whenever his feet couldn’t reach the ground. As long as he kicked, though, he was just fine. I swam out toward our friends and family with Chad hanging onto my back. The water grew deep. I’m a fairly strong swimmer, but I quickly tired in the tossing surf.

When we were more than halfway there, I unwrapped Chad’s clinging arms from my neck, intending him to swim alongside me. But it was much tougher for him to keep afloat in unsteady water than it had been, earlier, at the pool. I tried to kind of push him upward, but discovered it was easier to simply carry him. Pretty soon my arms and legs felt like noodles.

 My strength failed. I slipped underwater, my toes grazing the sand beneath me as I held Chad high enough to breathe. We bobbed along like that for awhile, me surfacing for a quick gulp of air, then sinking under his weight. Fortunately, Matt saw my predicament. Maybe I yelled, I really can’t remember. He stroked over and scooped Chad into his arms. We moved to a shallower spot and finished out the day with fun and laughter.

While I’m no longer at the ocean, I still sometimes feel like I’m drowning. Drowning in work, responsibilities, appointments, errands, expectations, all while holding up so many other people. Helping them get where they need to be, do what they need to do. Have you ever felt that way? I don’t resent it. But I’m still learning how to manage it. 

So, for today, here’s my top ten tips for staying afloat when you feel like you’re drowning:

1-5: Ahead of crunch time                  6-10: When the crisis has hit

1.      Wear a better life jacket. What I mean by this is to take good care of yourself ahead of time. If you know a huge deadline is coming up, make sure you’re nourished and well-rested.

2.      Practice swimming. In other words, before you try to accomplish a massive task, try out something smaller that’s similar. Kind of like living on your own for awhile before trying to raise a whole family. It’s easier if we grow into greater responsibility. (But not always possible—so for emergency rescue, see 6-10, below)

3.      Really practice swimming. Or any kind of exercise. Exercise releases endorphins. This lowers our stress level. It also increases our stamina, giving us strength and endurance that pays off later in tough situations.

4.      Learn to hold your breath. Sometimes to reach a long-term goal, we sacrifice small pleasures now. Skip the movie and save your cash for something else more important.

5.      Switch of swimming with floating or treading water. Manage time wisely. Make lists and set priorities so you spend your time where it’s most needed. Develop the habit of completing tasks before their urgent.

6.      Call for help. Don’t be afraid to look to friends and family, or even willing strangers, in times of crisis. Seek spiritual guidance and comfort as well.

7.      Kick harder. Put in a little extra effort. Push yourself to finish up. When it’s all said and done, you’ll be glad you did.

8.      Grab a floatie. Squeeze in time to rest. A 20 minute nap is not only refreshing, but can provide the energy you need to finish up your day. Even a 5 minute meditation can rejuvenate and inspire.

9.      Don’t swim deeper. Don’t take on other, unnecessary projects, however small. Remain focused on your objective.

10.  Don’t drink the salt water. Tough times are part of life, but don’t internalize them. Good times are ahead along with the rewards that come from never giving up!

What tips can you share for staying afloat?

Life Lessons from the Sea #14: The changing beauty of life

My crumbled Parthenon

Today someone broke a small statue of mine. I’m not much of a knick-knack gal, but this one came from Greece. Its value was mainly sentimental, a relic of a wonder-filled trip with people I love. It certainly wasn’t expensive. Well, not unless you count the plane ticket to Barcelona and the cost of cruising through the Mediterranean. 

The accidental vandal was contrite, willing to buy me a new miniature Parthenon. Obviously that won’t work. But does it really matter? The main reason I purchased the trinket was to remind me of our trip. We have doohickeys and photos enough for that. And elusive, shifting memories. 

I see a crowd of umbrellas and I’m transported to Rome, where we drowned in torrential rains in the Coliseum. The musty odor of cool cement sends me to the soaring columns and crenellated arches of Athens. A blast of hot, gritty wind, and I’m in Cairo, watching sun set right over the pyramids.

Souvenirs may not last. Memories fade. But such is the way of this world. If you’ve ever built a sand castle anywhere near the sea, you know what I mean. You could spend hours constructing an architectural marvel. Ultimately, the tide washes it away. Waves pound even the sturdiest shells into tiny bits. Over time, the ocean carves coastlines, changing our maps. But this changeableness does not detract from its beauty.

Are we wise to build sand castles, only to see them swept away? What about flowers? Is it practical to plant them only to have them wither in winter? And the memories we build, with our loved ones—when the trinkets break and the details blur in our minds, does their worth cease? Of course not. There is intrinsic value in the actions we take to create beauty in our lives, even after those beauties fade. So I build. I create. Even as weeds try to overrun me and sometimes succeed.

How do you fill your life with beauty?

Life Lessons from the Sea #13: The Music of Memory

Conch shell photo from flickr by queenie13

In my home I have two giant conch shells. One, my Omama and Opapa gave me many years ago. The other I brought home from the Bahamas. I’d found it on the ocean floor, an empty shell, devoid of any inhabitant. I polished it up to a creamy pink. Now it lives alongside my other ocean treasures.

Sometimes my children and I listen to it. We hold it to our ears and wait for the echoes of crashing waves, pounding surf. It’s one of my favorite things to do, not because of the sounds we hear, but because of the wonder that fills my kids eyes when they hear it. Then, we reminisce of our trips to the sea. Building sand castles. Swimming in the salty water. Riding the waves. This is what I love the shells for. The memories they dredge up, cementing them in our minds.

Last night I went to a Journey concert (hence the late post…sorry!). As the music washed over me, it swept me back to my youth. To times when I danced arm in arm with friends. To when my sister and I sang at the top of our lungs as we drove down the highway. Slow dances with boys. The thrill of taping my favorite song when in finally came on the radio.

The amphitheatre was crammed full of fans, mostly forty-somethings, screaming and singing, waving our arms, reliving the highlights of our youth. Lost in emotion. I loved it. We all did.

What smells or sounds bring back potent memories for you? What do you do to treasure them?

Life Lessons from the Sea #12: Loss, while painful, can still bring joy

My daughter is getting married in less than three months, which pretty much has me freaking out, running around in circles, and using all my creative juices figuring out how to stretch my dollars into lovely wedding décor. 

Oh, for spare time in which to write to my heart’s content. Oh, the dreams I have of lounging by the sea and soaking in the sun until I’m overflowing with inspiration.Okay, I’ll admit, I did that last month, and it was wonderful. A week of sea and salt and sand and a million gazillion kids (which translates into not much time for writing). 

Fortunately, one of the wonders of the sea is that it stays with you. It lingers in the mind, fresh and exhilarating. Sharp and tangy as a lime, flowing and roaring like a living thing.  I still hear the cry of pelicans, see them plummet into crystal water then gulp down their quivering meal. I hear the call of strangers, searching for their lost daughter, their voices anxious as the sun sets, then panicked as darkness closes in.

“Alejandra! Alejandra!”

It’s a frightening thing, to lose a child. Especially so close to the sea. In time, they found her, wandering along the dusky shore. They gathered her in hugs and kisses and cries of relief.

In a way, I, too, am also losing a child—losing her to her own life, her newfound independence. This is a good thing, it is true. But a loss, nonetheless. Of course, I’m gaining a son-in-law. And he’s delightful, too. But the fact remains, Amanda will no longer be my own. 

Am I like a sea star, losing a limb? Will it grow back in time, slightly different? Will I find that Amanda and Devon are still part of me? Will I, like Alejandra’s parents, rejoice to find my daughter, with her companion, forging her own path in life? I think so. 

When sea stars lose an arm, the lost piece grows to become a whole new star, a whole new creature, just from that tiny part. Perhaps someday, my loved ones will be a cluster of sea stars, separate but still family, inching our way through the storms and beauties of the sea.

Life Lessons from the Sea #11: Ten Tips for Surviving Family Vacations

The ocean is a great place to build unity and trust. Even vacationers, swimming in the surf, keep an eye out for those around them. On a recent trip to Mexico with several families, we watched each other’s kids in the sea and along shorelines, always aware of the risks involved in water play.

Early in the morning, when the ocean receded, my youngest daughter and I explored tide pools. We shared our treasures—hermit crabs and a sea star, with perfect strangers who, likewise, showed us their finds. Later, my nephews and sons caught larger crabs. It took the greater part of the afternoon, but together, they finally triumphed. Then the cousins dug huge holes together and built sand castles that would inspire any budding architect.

In the spirit of togetherness, my eldest daughter gathered and borrowed shells to create a love note for her sweetheart back home. Our families shared goggles, a paddleboard, food, sunscreen and more. We enjoyed the wild freedom of the ocean while alert for the dangers that lurk beneath its surface, ready to act should the need arise.

It’s easy to make this idyllic setting sound like a dream, full of smiles, pleasant surprises, and only the happiest feelings. But, like in the ocean, dangers lurk in even the most delightful family vacations, rearing up to spoil the fun. A little friction here, a cross voice there, a touch of impatience. Not by coincidence, then, did all of our group family lessons focus on controlling anger and getting along.

One of my favorite of the suggestions given, was to agree with your adversary, then add your gentle comments afterward. I tried this out on my kids (they're never adversarial, are they?) when they complained about our watermelon having seeds.

“I know, honey, I like seedless watermelons better, too. But we’re in Mexico, and the store here doesn’t have them. Plus, now you have seeds to spit at your brothers.” 

To my delight, I found that this approach worked much better than snapping at my darlings about trying to have a better attitude! So here’s a few more tips about managing the trouble that comes from close contact with your loved ones, especially on family vacation.

1.      Count to ten before responding to people’s outrageously rude comments. They probably didn’t really mean it. All right, maybe they did, but don’t let them ruin your vacation!

2.      Make a concerted effort to be cheerful. You’ve been looking forward to this chance to torture, I mean, enjoy each other for a long time.

3.      Shake off little irritations that will probably be forgotten in a few minutes anyway.

4.      Keep snacks handy to avoid those nasty little dips in blood sugar that tend to bring out the grumpies in everybody.

5.      Try not to lose it when security lets you know your hellions are loading trash bins into the elevator and spitting off balconies at unsuspecting strangers. (How not to lose it? Laugh. It’s the only option. But wait until after the security guards leave.)

6.      Plan portable activities to keep the crew occupied in down time, so they aren’t at each other’s throats: card games, small puzzles, coloring books, reading books…ipad

7.      Spend a few minutes every day with the whole family, sharing in positive ways, whether through storytelling, worship time, or just sharing favorite experiences from the day. It sets an upbeat tone that carries over  into the rest of the trip.

8.      Squeeze in a little time by yourself, to unwind—a quiet jog, swim in the surf, hide out on the balcony, put in your earphones during a long drive.

9.      Feed the kids well, then wear them out with fun activities, like swimming and hiking, so they’ll sleep well at night (maybe even early—peace for the grown-ups!)

10.  If all else fails, spit watermelon seeds at them. (Just don’t tell security.)

How do you fend off fights that crop up during family time?