When you hit
rock bottom there are two choices: hang on to something and drown; become
stiff, cold and lifeless or use the bottom for momentum and push off to get
back to the top.
I made the
choice to head back to the top. I have discovered a few important things no one
told me.
First, all those obstacles I hit on the way
down that broke off rather than breaking my fall, they are now jagged edges
sticking out. If I ascend too quickly they will cut me and cause me stinging
pain. So I have slowed down so I can use those objects as handles to guide my
way back up. Taking control of where that painful memory is in my life and
using it to my advantage.
Second, the
light is blinding and disorienting. I have to know which way is up, but keep my
head straight so I can stay aware of my place. Becoming too focused on where I
want to be causes me to lose sight of where I am. By keeping my head straight I
can still see the light, while controlling the ascent.
Third, as any
diver will tell you, ascending too fast will make my eardrums explode or I’ll
get the bends. Lord knows I don’t need any more ear issues. Going fast will get
me to the top, at the cost of severe physical pain.
Finally, when I do reach the top, the work
isn’t over. Once I’m there I have to figure out which way to swim to get to a
safe place. It isn’t enough to survive. I want to thrive. There has to be
strength for the swim.
Hitting
bottom is difficult and painful. Getting back to the top is a lot of work. In
order to enjoy the paradise you want so badly, all the sharp, stinging, painful
obstacles have to be transformed to tools of growth and strength. Getting to
the top fast is a painful, bloody mess that leaves you without enough strength
for the swim ahead.
I know it’s difficult;
I’m in the midst of it myself, to accept the idea of slow and steady. The
island paradise that awaits us is beautiful. I, for one, want to be mentally
and physically healthy to enjoy it.
