I didn’t want to be left out of the neti pot club
A Fear of Drowning
I’ve been talking about fear lately in my blog. And I think that it’s time that I mention that I have a pretty healthy fear of drowning. This is especially ironic given the fact that I am a certified SCUBA diver. Go ahead, laugh, I’ll wait till you’re done. Are you ready to compose yourself now? Good. See, there’s a moment when I’m standing on the aft of the boat with all my gear on ready to plunge down into the unknown waters below me that I usually think that I’m going to be plummeting to a watery grave. I know that as I’m standing on the boat I can take that regulator out of my mouth and gasp deep lungfuls of air all I want, but the second I go under water the only thing between me and the burning sensation of all my alveoli bursting as they fill with water is a few hoses, some plastic and metal. Of course, once I settle in to about 20 feet below sea level I completely forget about all of that and I just stare in wonder around me at the world that so few people get to experience first hand.
However, for years that fear of drowning was just about enough to make me just bag the whole thing. There was one dive in Grand Cayman that I missed out on entirely because I just couldn’t seem to shake that feeling that I was going to die if I stepped off that boat into the water. After a full scale panic attack I ripped the regulator out of my mouth and stepped away crying. Pretty bad.
Senior year in college I had one final kinesiology credit to fulfill. I’d taken yoga the first semester and I struggled with what to take next. Having finished writing my thesis in one semester (a feat that was in and of itself a miracle) and the fact that I’d done nothing for four years except work my hiney off I decided to take the easy route out — SCUBA 101. True, it was for people who were looking to be certified, but I wanted an easy grade. I didn’t want to think. It became vastly apparent to my instructor that I was entirely too qualified for the class around week #2 and he insisted that I switch to Advanced SCUBA, assuring me that there was no book work, all just pool time. So I agreed, because after all, it was so much better to be actually doing practical stuff in your SCUBA gear than just learning about it.
I learned lots of stuff, but the most valuable lesson that I learned was that my knowledge of my equipment is what might just save me from drowning on a dive. One Thursday night we arrived at the pool and were beginning to put all of our equipment on when our instructor told us to stop. For that evening’s exercise we were to jump into the deep end of the pool holding all of our gear, air turned off the tank, and once our feet hit the bottom we were to assemble all the gear, put it on and only then were we able to turn on our tank and begin to breathe. Hm… that sounded pretty scary. Right about that time before we started the instructor had to take a quick phone call and he left the pool area, leaving me and the two other people in my class alone together to decide who would go first.
It was just me, another girl, and one guy. The guy was your typical frat boy. And on that particular evening he looked at me with sheer terror in his eyes and said, “I’m drunk. I completely forgot about this class… if I jump in that water now I’ll die, I just know it.” And the other girl and I knew that it was true too. So, it was clear he was going to go last. However, she too looked at me with terror in her eyes and pleaded with me to go first. I was the most experienced diver out of the bunch, I’d been diving for seven years at that point, and she had only been diving for two. So it was decided, I was going first.
The instructor came back gave some more brief instructions, which I didn’t hear because I was facing my worst fear, jumping into the pool and knowing that I would have only as much air as I could hold in my lungs to complete the task at hand. He asked me if I was ready, I gave a little nod, licked my lips and clutching all my gear to my chest jumped off the side of the pool. My body plunged into the cool water and I struggled, for some reason I wasn’t able to get down very far. I was frantically trying to swim to the bottom so that I could begin to assemble my gear and get that air that I desperately needed. The more frantically I tried to swim down the quicker my lungs started to burn, begging me to take a breath. Then I made the biggest mistake I could have made, the reflex to open my mouth and breathe took over and a big deep mouthful of chlorine water filled my mouth. I broke the surface as quickly as I could spluttering and feeling like my lungs were on fire. The instructor was bending over the side of the pool with his hand outstretched.
“You didn’t listen, I said to make sure that all the air was out of your BC before you jumped into the pool.”
My fear had prevented me from being able to hear that final last piece of instruction. My instructor helped me out of the water and I proceeded to execute the exercise perfectly the second time. I fumbled a bit, but once I was down there I remained calm and went through all the motions. And with my added near-drowning at the beginning of the class, we bought Mr. Frat Boy enough time to sober up and get his wits about him.
But what was better is that I have never once felt nervous standing on the aft of a boat waiting to jump in. I still fear drowning, but not when I dive.
What’s all that got to do with a neti pot?
Now that you’ve just read a manifesto about how I almost drowned and how that cured me of my drowning fear in conjunction with SCUBA diving you’re probably wondering why that had anything to do with a neti pot. Well the thing is, I still fear drowning. I think that it’s probably one of the worst ways to go next to burning (funny how fire and water are opposites, but equally scary). I’ve been doing yoga for 11 years now and I’ve never once considered using a neti pot for the mere reason that I think pouring water into your nose would be the exact same feeling that you would get right before you drowned. Therefore, I can only imagine panic ensuing.
My mother and I recently joined a Women’s Yoga class lead by the instructor by which I judge all other instructors. She’s amazing, the first person who ever taught me yoga, and she is infinitely wise. I trust her more than I trust most people because of how kind and caring she is, and how well studied she has become in the tradition of yoga. It’s not just all about the postures in her classes, it’s about the whole practice. We have some chanting, some meditation, and we talk about whole wellness. It’s a wonderful class and it’s the only thing that makes my Tuesday worth while.
Well, about a month ago we were all sitting around chatting and the topic of neti pots came up. Quite a few of the women in the class use them and they were all talking about the benefits. My mother mentioned that she had never used one and asked several questions. After that everyone was offering up whether they used them or not and when it got to me I said, “No… I’m afraid of drowning…” to which my mother so compassionately replied, “And what’s even more funny is that she’s a certified SCUBA diver!” To be fair, it was funny and I laughed too.
We’ve been talking about neti pots nearly constantly since then. Every week, there’s another person who has decided to try it. Last week, my mother went out and bought one, coming back proud and pleased with her experience. At that point I decided I wasn’t going to be bested (to which I instantly felt guilty because yoga isn’t supposed to be a competition; there aren’t winners).
A new horizon
On Wednesday, I went to the Health Food store and purchased my first neti pot. It was a hard decision… there was a nice soothing green one (and I love green) and then there was a pretty little white one with a lotus flower on it. Buying the neti pot was enough, but trying to figure out which one was least intimidating was even harder! I settled on the white one because the lotus flower was inspirational to me.
The neti pot sat in my bag all day Wednesday, all day Thursday, all day Friday… and finally on Saturday morning I took it out of the box. It stared at me, I stared at it. I read the directions and I thought, it’s now or never. If I don’t do it today then I will never do it. It will sit under my bathroom sink forever being one more thing I was afraid of. And then I thought of the Lululemon Manifesto. Item #3 is “do one thing a day that scares you.” Well, today my item #3 was going to be the neti pot. I took a deep breath and began mixing the saline solution. Another big deep breath and suddenly I was pouring water through my nose.
But all the things I thought would happen and all the things I was afraid of were completely wrong. It doesn’t at all feel like you’re drowning. In fact, it felt a lot like I feel when I get down to our diving depth and I’m surrounded by this warm salt water and everything is clear and brilliant. It felt soothing, and wonderful (and though it’s a little weird if you look at yourself in the mirror) and I felt terribly accomplished. I should also mention that food tastes different… better. And while I’m sure that the neti pot is extremely good for my sinuses, I’m a bit worried that it’s going to wreck havoc on my dieting!
So, Fear… put that in your pipe and smoke it!!
I had never heard of a neti pot so I had to click on the link to see what you were talking about …
But what a great story about you fearing drowning and being able to overcome it. You are so brave – and that is so admirable!
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