Dwelling on the bottom of the ocean.

When I was in college, some days I would get up before dawn. In the quiet morning light, I would slip out of my dorm room, up behind the buildings where my peers were sleeping. I would walk barefoot, to feel the coolness of the earthen trail under my feet. I climbed up to the top of the hill behind the campus, where there was nearly a complete view — dorms, fields, classrooms, treetops. Beyond stretched the expanse of the Pacific ocean, a view that was continually incredible and wonderful. As I sat and looked out, I would feel a sense of ease as the day began. All of the papers, deadlines, social connections, events, all of that existed in that bubble down there; it had its being-ness, and there was life beyond it. Looking beyond helped me to remember the greater connection of life that I was a part of. All of the anxieties, stress and insecurities I had in this chapter of my life, remained down there, in the bubble. Up here, I was just myself, looking out at the ocean. As the sun rose and grew warm on my back, gradually there would be movement down below; a custodian golf cart here, a morning jogger there. I would have a good stretch, and walk back down to the campus with gentleness, ready to begin the brand new day.

These days, when life gets busy, I don’t have a hill that I climb for perspective, but I have another practice that brings me relief. When it feels like life is getting swirly and out of control, I imagine myself detaching from the reality I am living in, and going to sit at the bottom of the ocean. I go down there (with my imaginary gills), root down on the ocean floor next to the coral, and observe life happening above me. The creatures going about their business, the wind and the waves interacting up above. As I see everything happening above me, I feel a sense of calm. I can be still, and be me, and let everything else continue on.

Sometimes, I even imagine myself heading into outer space, and I go and “sit” on Saturn, one of the Last Planets of the Light. I lean back and gaze into our solar system, watching the events as they unfold.

If you are ever feeling overwhelmed by your life, try finding a place where you can step back and observe. For me, the perspective brings relief, and a renewed acceptance of life as it is.



With a nod to Dan Siegel, who also practices deep ocean contemplation.