Tag: purpose

The Dance of Water: Finding Beauty in the Tumult

Photo Credit: Tim Marshall

The first time I whitewater-rafted was in a park called Ohiopyle at around 12 years old. Located in southwestern Pennsylvania we rafted along a famous stretch of the Youghiogheny River. My mother, father, brother, and I all shared a raft.

When the first rapids we had no clue what we were doing. Our boat rammed right into something. It knocked my father straight off the raft. I went flying out too, but before I could fall out of the boat, my mom’s body slammed into my legs on the boat, pinning them. Instead, I dangled over the edge, with my legs trapped on the boat and my chest and head hanging over the edge. 

This was one of the most interesting experiences of my entire life. I hung there passively with no control over where I went or what I did as the boat careened down the water. 

Waves would form around my face, in a circular vortex starting up from my chest and curving my face. They would form a cylindrical corridor like science fiction depictions of the inside of a wormhole. Within, I would marvel at the crystalline-like structures of water all around me. 

Then suddenly the wave would collapse. My head hopelessly dunked in the water. My existence precariously converted into a blinding stream of bubbles and gagging as the water pummeled my face, and I thrashed amidst the current. 

Then just as suddenly as it ended, another crystalline wave would form. This would go in cycles: the beautiful moments of respite to catch my breath while I marveled at the unique formations around me followed by periods of chaotic pummeling in the water. 

It lasted for several minutes until the boat finally concluded its rapids. Then, my mother finally moved from her perch against the edge of the boat, releasing me to drop fully into the now calm water. 

When I came back on board, she was not aware that she was pinning my legs against the side of the boat as she had entirely focused on how to navigate the coming waves. My father returned from his swim, and my older brother stayed perfectly safe in the back of the boat the whole time, steering it through the rapids, wondering why everyone else on the boat couldn’t keep their seats. It goes to show you how different people given their personalities and initial positions in life have very different experiences with the same phenomena. 

Watching the waves crash above me reminded me how I really have very little control over my life. I am really being taken along for a ride by bigger forces around me outside of my control. At the same time, I still get to see wondrous sites as these entities form and break around me. The glory of life lies in these moments of surrender towards the unique dances the world creates. 

At the same time, at least for now, I have been given enough of a break from the chaos of life to catch my breath and survive, to have my needs met in between the moments of serenity and chaos. That has been enough. 

Spiritual Anxiety and Spiritual Depression

I know some people who have given up on life. They became perplexed at why they should keep doing things when they feel that none of their actions matter in the ultimate sense.

I have also seen other people who go about their day intensely completing tasks as if their life depended on every little small thing on their to-do list. For example, some get caught in their job – in the daily grind of making their presentation or report at work really pop.

The energies of these two people seem like polar opposites – one skeptical, slow, and maybe even despondent, and the other frantic and frenetic. But both types of responses seem to emulate from a similar source: not taking the time to find satisfying meaning in their lives (or find a new source if their previous source of meaning has since broken down).

They are responding in opposite ways to this underlying problem. The first person is exhibiting what I call a depressed spiritual response (not to be confused with emotional depression, though they may be experiencing that too). Overwhelmed by this meaninglessness, they feel like nothing matters.

The second person is trying to satiate their need for meaning by doing more and more. As if that would satisfy them, or at least prevent them having to face their own existential angst.

I call this the anxious spiritual response: the attempt to do more, often trivial things in order to satisfy or avoid finding deeper meaning in life. This is not the same as psychological or emotional anxiety, as it relates more to one’s ability (or inability) to find meaning for one’s life rather than one’s momentary mood or emotional state.

Neither solution is ultimately satisfying, and just like psychological anxiety and depression often occur at the same time, spiritual anxiety and spiritual depression tend to coexist. Despite being opposites, one person may go between them in cycles: building superficial meaning they anxiously hold onto it, only to fall into purposeless depression when it fails. This can become a cycle, where the person consistently rushes towards another vapid way to ground meaning only for what they created to fall apart.

Having either can be a sign that you need to pause and do the work to determine how to effectively build meaning into your life.