Journey Archives -

Self-Mastery

By Simone Lipscomb | December 30, 2013

The last time I was in an underwater cave was April 6th, 2010. Over three and one-half years ago I was at Peacock Springs State Park and dove in 25 foot viz in green water. I spent 54 minutes with two dive buddies and went up the Peanut Tunnel entrance. My gas was 31 % EAN (enriched air nitrox). I wore two steel tanks in a backmount configuration (meaning they were banded together and joined by a manifold with an isolator valve). It was my 85th cave dive.

Over ten years ago I was riding on the back of a motorcycle and the guy operating it hit a pot hole on the interstate going about 70mph and the result for me was a compression fracture of L5 and a small piece of bone that floats around a bit…not much but just enough to cause a lot of pain when my hip is compressed by carrying anything heavy on my back or doing exercise or movement that pushes the bone fragment against my sacrum. It’s not serious or debilitating but carrying heavy steel tanks on my back created too much compression to enjoy cave diving. Additionally, I lost my dive buddy due to divorce.

I’ve missed cave diving–or certain aspects of it. The feeling of being surrounded by earth while underwater is one of the most holy experiences of my life. This is especially evident in caves found in the Akumal, Mexico region of the world where the once-dry caves are heavily decorated with stalagmites and stalactites and the water is crystal clear and 78 degrees. And still. The water generally has no flow in the Mexico caves.

It’s different here in north Florida. First, there are no decorations in the caves. They are seep caves formed from underground aquifers that create tunnels–lots and lots of underground tunnels filled with water.And it’s different because it’s only six hours from home by way of I-10 instead of a jet ride down to Mexico. However, the most important distinction for me is that many of the caves here have significant water flow.

In my first book, Sharks On My Fin Tips, I related a story of my first attempt to enter an underwater cave at Ginnie Springs. I compared it to feeling like a mosquito trying to grab the windshield of a car while it’s traveling at a high rate of speed. I stuck with it because I wanted to experience the caves of Mexico and basically, it’s a unique experience that is unlike anything else I’ve ever experienced.

Sidemount diving gives the opportunity to carry two tanks attached to the diver’s sides, carried to the water independently and attached in shallow water, taking the stress of the diver’s back. Many divers switch to sidemount due to back issues after carrying heavy doubles on their backs. This seemed like the perfect solution for me.

After making inquiries about sidemount instructors I chose one and a friend of mine decided to take the class with me. We are both competent divers and in fact both function as open water instructors. She also teaches scuba instructors how to instruct. The first day of class we were both humbled by the new gear and configuration. It was like learning to dive from the beginning.

When I first began cave diving and switched to double tanks I felt the same way. So much gear and such a hassle to even get in the water….it seemed very tedious and there was a lot of task-loading. But over time and through practice, backmount diving with doubles became like second nature. But never was the setup easy. It was a pain in the rear. And in my case…a pain in the back.

There is a lot of redundancy in gear for safety reasons so a diver still has to carry three lights, extra air, extra reels but with sidemount the configuration is different. The harness and wings (that provide lift) are all different. So it is like starting over yet again.

It’s funny how activities I am drawn to perfectly mirror my inner life. I am starting over again after a ten year relationship ended. It’s not easy. Over the past two years I have had to learn to be single again and at times it has been incredibly challenging. But over time it has gotten easier and I’m comfortable with ‘just’ me now. The sidemount class mirrored my challenges of the past couple of years.

It took a while but by the end of the first day I felt comfortable in the harness, with the tanks and was in a good position in the water…all vital to successful diving. We went on a night dive into a beautiful cavern at Ginnie Springs called the Ballroom and practiced. I liked the feel of the gear and felt comfortable in my body. It was great to be surrounded by earth while underwater.

But I knew I wasn’t ready to face a high-flow cave in my new gear. I was clear with the instructor. It had been over three and one-half years since being in an underwater cave. But it’s not the overhead environment that bothers me. It’s the flow. It has always been the flow. I abhor it. I don’t know any other way to explain it. I simply detest the high flow because I have to pull against it. After two years of fighting to find myself again and get comfortable in my own skin once more, the thought of fighting against anything made me tired–emotionally and mentally.

Day two of class and I felt great in my gear. I changed a couple of things in the configuration and trimmed out nicely in the water once again. No issues really. But since our instructor chose Ginnie as a place to do our penetration dives I was apprehensive. Have I mentioned how I dislike high-flow systems?

I shared my concerns and our plan was to do a short penetration through the Eye, one of two entrances into the cave. As we descended into the small bowl leading into the eye I felt good. The instructor tied off her reel and I followed with my buddy behind me. We descended through rock and sand and lines of other divers. I was doing okay with the overhead but as the opening got smaller the flow was more forceful. I struggled to get my buoyancy balanced. It was difficult to continue. I stopped and regrouped and moved forward. Little-by-little I progressed until I came to a point where three lines covered the bottom. I knew because I wasn’t able to get the proper buoyancy I would most likely drag on one of the lines. So I made the decision to turn the dive.

Upon turning I realized I was already caught on one of the lines. It wasn’t a big deal though. I reached under my body and ran my hand down and removed the line from my pressure gauge then slowly ascended behind my buddy up to the light zone and into open water.

One thing I have always insisted upon in myself is that I can call a dive at any time for any reason. This way of thinking is taught in the cave diving community as we never want anyone to push when they should really draw back. It’s not always an easy decision to make, however. You don’t want to let your buddies down. You want to succeed. You want to be masterful in your skills.

But what I have come to understand through over fifty years of making mistakes and growing from them is that success isn’t about pushing myself to succeed at any cost. Monitoring my thoughts, emotions and physical body helps me learn self-mastery and this leads to self-trust. And this is far more important than mastering a high-flow cave in new gear.

And too, fighting the flow of life’s journey is futile. People float in, people float out. Jobs, homes, geographic locations, experiences….all of these components of our journey come and go and to try to hold on to them, to keep things static, is futile. Success comes from surrendering to the flow, not from fighting it…not from pushing against it. I told my instructor and my dive buddy yesterday at lunch that I’m so weary of pushing against the flow of my life. I don’t have any fight left to try and make things work out a certain way. The cave flow reminded me so profoundly of this truth.

Life provides opportunities to refine the relationship we have with our self and learn the sacred art of self-mastery.

Enter Persephone

By Simone Lipscomb | October 17, 2013

A couple days ago I was shopping at my favorite natural foods store and happened upon organic pomegranates. Something compelled me to add one to my cart. Today, after my workout, I arrived home hungry and wanting refreshment so I greedily eyed the ripe fruit.

I began cooking brunch while simultaneously beginning the long process of freeing the plump, red, succulent seeds from their honeycomb-like womb. Stir the broccoli, peel a bit more….add the eggs, peel a bit more. Sneaking a sweet seed with its fleshy pulp fruit, I nearly melted. How exquisite, what an explosion of flavor. My spelt bread finished toasting and I added local honey to it. I dipped my finger in the thick, golden liquid and sucked it off and was met with a most interesting contrast of intense sweetness mixed with the sweet-tart-sour of the pomegranate fruit.

But meanwhile, the main course was ready so I sat down, with red-stained hands, to eat. Upon completion of my meal I went back to the task of sorting the tiny, fleshy fruit from the peel with the intention of sitting in my courtyard and enjoying the fruits of my labor. The effort yielded a bowl-full of delicious treats and I sat outside, next to the grandmother oak tree, eating until I could eat no more. As I ate, I pondered the mythology that was linked to pomegranates.

In mythos Persephone was beautiful, well-loved and innocent. She was the daughter of Demeter–goddess of the harvest–and Zeus. Even Hades, god of the underworld, wanted Persephone. So one day, when she was out enjoying the flowers and most likely chatting with deer, rabbits and other gentle creatures, the earth split open and Hades thundered out in his chariot pulled by black horses and abducted the fair and lovely Persephone.

Demeter was heart-broken and wandered the earth looking for her lost daughter. She was so upset that she withdrew in deep depression and loneliness and because of this the earth ceased to be fertile. Everything began to turn brown. Zeus saw what was happening and sent Hermes into the underworld to demand the release of his daughter. Hades consented but gave Persephone a pomegranate as she left and it is said that she ate only three seeds of the sweet fruit; in doing so she forever bound herself to the underworld.

Because she partook of the fruit given her by Hades, she had to spend part of each year in the underworld with him. During this time Demeter mourned and withdrew and green things of the earth stopped growing. This myth explained winter and the cycling of the seasons in Greek culture. And yet, it explained so much more.

Each of us must take the journey of Persephone many times during our lives. We must journey into our own darkness and get to know it in order to emerge into the light of our spirit. Like Persephone, it isn’t a one-time event. We most likely would prefer not to have to make this journey more than once, but as we engage in our lives, inner triggers are pushed which, if followed, lead us back into our dark, inner world. We can try to postpone the journey but if we do, we will certainly repeat the same patterns again and again until we go within and deal with our ‘stuff.’

Perhaps we fear the darkness and are afraid we’ll be absorbed or lost in it; however, some of the most creative expressions throughout history have come from artists who have taken the journey of Persephone into their inner underworld and give expression to it. Eat the seeds, take the journey and dance in the darkness, sing in it, play it out with music. Create beauty out of the journey into the inner world. For without the journey inwards into our darkness, we could never come to the full expression of light.

The choice we have is whether we’ll go kicking and screaming when life abducts us or if we’ll go willingly. Either way, it is good to remember that sweetness and nurturance also can be found in the darkness and help is ever with us, even though many times unseen. It is often said that when we feel the most alone is when we have the most assistance on a spiritual level. We can draw from the strength of those who have made the journey of Persephone. Know that just as the seasons cycle, so too do the times of darkness.

Please comment, share and re-post as you feel moved.

Thread of the Soul’s Path

By Simone Lipscomb | October 16, 2013

A person dear to my heart made a decision years ago that many people were against. He chose to do it anyway but changed his mind a few months into his choice, most likely due to pressure from those of us who didn’t like it. A couple years later he again chose to take the path he had started down before and he has stayed with it. Courage to follow a thread of your soul’s path is vital once you make the decision to do it. It may not make sense to anyone but you, yet if your soul is calling you, the only thing that makes sense is to listen and do it.

I was one of those silently objecting and questioning my friend’s decision. A war zone? The Middle East? Fear kept me from being able to fully support his path even though I did verbally. In reality I didn’t understand it. And today I feel baffled as to why I couldn’t see how perfect this was for him. He loved his former job and when he retired he was unsatisfied. He has a strong belief in serving country and community and has a fascination with war movies and planes. It totally makes sense now as I reflect from a distance. He is in his element. Who am I, who is anyone to judge his choice….a path to which his soul lead him? It seems like a no-brainer.

How can we ever see what is right for another person? Every person has his or her unique connection to their soul. It’s a sacred contract between soul, body, and mind. Nobody has a right to interfere in that or doubt that wisdom. And yet we do it often. Why? Perhaps it makes us uncomfortable to see someone take risks. Or maybe it takes them away from us or we think it is dangerous. If a person gets hurt or dies doing what their soul called them to do then how is that wrong? We get so invested in deciding what is right for people we care about we forget that we don’t have a say in something that is between them and God.

Several years ago I inherited property and felt a very strong intuition to sell it. The choice was very unpopular with some who thought I should hold out to get more money, as the real estate market was ballooning. I listened to my inner voice, trusted it and sold the property at what I considered a fair price. Then the market bottomed out. Had I waited….well, that’s a story I don’t even want to consider. It took a lot of courage to tread a path for which others did not approve. But my life has been a series of these kinds of leaps of faith that are not always popular with others.

Why is it we believe we know what’s best for others? Why do we form judgements about choices others make? What keeps us from being unconditionally supportive of our friends, spouses, children about the paths they choose? Fear? Yes, but based in what? I believe it goes beyond fear to that dreaded culprit–ego. The ego believes it knows what’s best for everyone. And we all know that E G O really means…Edging God Out. Too often we want to be the guiding voice for others, negating their need and ability to figure it out on their own. (If they ask for our advice…then different story).

If I trust the Divine to speak to my heart then I can and must offer that same acknowledgement to everyone in my life. To do otherwise is to come from my own darkness…from judgement, opinion. Who can truly know the heart of another? Those words, “Trust me, I know what I’m doing…have a little faith in me,” ring in my mind today and I know I made a big mistake by not tossing my fear and ego out and trusting. Big mistake.

When we ask to grow and open ourselves to light and love, the light illuminates our darkness and we face it, clear it and awaken or we deny it and continue to wonder why everyone else is so screwed up. (Smile) When light shines within us and the veil is pulled away from our eyes we can see clearly, truly. Today I forgive myself for my inability to understand and trust. I celebrate the clarity that has arisen. I ask those whom I have judged or not trusted to forgive my mistakes. I make this promise to all friends and loved ones and all beings….I honor your path and the choices you make and accept them even if I don’t understand. I trust your connection with the Divine and your ability to clearly see the thread of your soul’s path as it invites you to give it a tug.

And….I celebrate your journey.