Navigating Whirlpools and Ledges

When you navigate a boat or ship through the water, there are a few things you do not want to do. Running up on rocks and getting caught in a whirlpool are two of the biggies.

Everyone comes across whirlpools and rock ledges in their lives. If you’re lucky, the ledge is marked by a lighthouse, and your lookout has sighted the whirlpool before it’s swirls have a death-grip on your hull.

But once in a while, there is an unmarked, undiscovered ledge that doesn’t have a lighted beacon yet, and your lookout is asleep at the wheel.

So how do you handle these situations?

Over the years, I’ve handled them in different ways, from pretending the rocks aren’t there (let me tell you, that one doesn’t end well), to bumping into them and being able to get a tow off (with minimal hull damage), to listening to my intuition screaming at me, “Hard to starboard!”

Over three months ago, our voyage was interrupted by one giant whirlpool that my lookout never saw coming. In one day, the entire ship was caught in the swirl, being pulled under, and my son started to drown.

He was caught by the never-ending swirl of severe anxiety and panic attacks.

photo from Google Images

All hands manned emergency stations as I called out for aide. One by one, rescue vessels threw us tow lines, but the strength of the whirlpool was almost too much. For the past few months, we’ve been holding on, trying to not go down with the ship.

A few weeks ago, another vessel arrived and threw on another line. It looks like this one might have made the difference.

The swirling and whirling is beginning to slacken off a bit. But we are diligent to keep a sharp lookout for cracks in the hull. One crack letting too much water in, and the pumps might not be able to stay ahead of the influx of water. So far, any cracks have been minor, and we’ve been able to get most of them sealed up.

How have we made it this far? By taking stock of the situation when it arose, taking decisive steps, and holding fast to the knowledge that whirlpools are temporary. They eventually lose their centrifugal force and slack off.

Along the way, there have been moments where the ship’s captain and crew had their faith tested. Their faith in the assist vessels and faith that the whirlpool would eventually dissipate.

It looks like we’re beginning to come out the other side. Finally.

page break

Looking at hard times in life as battles is never the way, because when you push against something and fight it, it only pushes back. Instead, I’ve learned to see them as voyages to traverse; some easier and others longer. Some are rocky or want to suck you down, while others are mere bumps in the road.

The last several months have been a lesson in anxiety and depression that I never saw coming. I never imagined my son would be crippled and held hostage by his brain. The thought of my son being decimated by mental illness kills me. Absolutely kills me.

One thing I had faith in from the beginning was that as long as I kept asking the Universe to send help, I would find it. And it arrived in the form of a wonderful intuitive naturopath and a homeschooling teacher who is guiding us.

In working with the doctor, making dietary changes and adding some supplements, Little Man’s body and brain are healing. He might need some help to feel ok for a while, and that’s just fine by me.

Looks like we’re beginning to emerge from the whirlpool. And for a while, at least, we’ll keep a tow line or two on for safety. Fair winds and following seas to all of you.

Advertisements

About mariner2mother

I'm a mother of a very spirited 15 year old son, and a former merchant ship's deck officer. To feed my creative side I take photos. I am also Reiki attuned and am a student of Energy Healing, having used several healing modalities to work on myself and my family. Our most recent adventure has me homeschooling my teenager.
This entry was posted in Holistic Healing, Mental Health, Spirituality, The Voyage and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

14 Responses to Navigating Whirlpools and Ledges

  1. janonlife says:

    What a stunning post, Sue. Wonderful that you’ve been able to apply your mariner’s skills to motherhood – and life generally.
    So glad you seem to be moving gradually away from troubled waters and all good wishes to Little Man. He will learn so much from these times. x

  2. Dalo 2013 says:

    There is nothing quite as horrifying as your craft being out of control, but you have perhaps the best advice ever – we all encounter such water, and have to bravely see it through without giving up. The brilliance in life is there usually is an opportunity that comes along if you look for it, and with the “intuitive naturopath and a homeschooling teacher” you found (or found you) is what makes each day a little bit more perfect. Best wishes and health to you and your family.

  3. Coming out the other side. That must be comforting and promising. Holding good intentions and continued positive outcomes for all of you.

  4. The Hook says:

    You’re a true warrior, my friend.

  5. As the first reader commented, this was absolutely stunning. I’m sensing a shift, a change, a feeling of calm in your writing these days. I love your metaphors and how you apply that to your son. How blessed he is to have a master mariner for a mama. xoxoxo

    • Thanks so much Michelle. The newest supplement we added (plus the effects of time passing) seems to have made a difference. Blood work is showing that Little Man’s body is healing inside, which is helping his brain. There is nothing that brought me to my knees more than seeing my son completely incapacitated by anxiety for days that turned into weeks that turned into months. I can finally breathe again.

      I love using metaphors, and should use them more often.

      • You should! Your writing is always beautiful, but even more so with metaphors. Remember “Crystal Dragon?”
        It’s still one of my favorites!

        • How could I ever forget? I swear, when I write there are times I am totally inspired. But never more than when I’m using metaphors. Something about it…

          It’s funny. Some pieces will first come out clunky and boring and I have to work and rework them, while others flow from the get-go. And some others never make it past draft. I think I have close to 70 drafts that will probably never see the light of day.

Share your thoughts.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s