Quicksand

At the beach one late-Spring morning, my eyes flew open and I sat straight up in bed. Late! I tossed the covers back, planted my feet on the floor, threw a big cream sweater on over my nightgown, and ran for the door. 

Sunrise. There is nothing like it. My days at the beach are bookended. Sunrise. Sunset. Work in between. That is Nature’s rhythm. And it is mine.

It’s a five minute walk from my little place down to the beach access. I must have done it in four! In the mornings, I walk toward the Eastern sunrise, then back once the sun has settled in for the day.

I was happily returning, looking forward to a cold brew. Watching the sandpipers already hard at work. Taking in the Gulf colors, noting that every morning has its own palette. Deep in Gratitude and brimming with Joy.

In an instant, I was waist-deep in quicksand! 

I grew up on the coast but I had no idea that quicksand was a beach phenomenon. I mean, now it seems obvious that quicksand could form in, well, sand. But I thought quicksand was found in the darkest jungles. Or by Indiana Jones and his lady-love on the way to Stonehenge while being chased by villains. 

It felt like I’d been dropped into a sand-slushie. I struggled. The harder I tried to climb out, the stuck-er I got! It was funny at first. Then puzzling. For a moment, scary as movie scenes began to flash through my mind. (Later research revealed that quicksand isn’t as dangerous as its on-screen reputation. Good to know. Still, I don’t recommend it.)

Finally, a tourist and his young son stopped to help. He grabbed my hand and slowly pulled me, as I crawled onto a solid patch of shore laughing. Relieved. Grateful.

It was an uncomfortable walk back, silk pasted to me and cold, wet sand in every stitch of my sweater’s loose weave. For that matter, wet sand everywhere! Once beachy, now bedraggled. As I trudged home, I wondered. What? Just! Happened?! 

It must have been a warning. For just one year later, I fell into quicksand of a different kind. Life’s quicksand.

Everything was fine—lovely, in fact. And in an instant, it wasn’t. At all. Fine. I never saw it coming. Hindsight is of course 20/20. Knowing what I know now, I could have sidestepped the whole quagmire. Or at least mitigated the mess. 

But there I found myself. In Life’s quicksand. The harder I tried to climb out, the stuck-er I got! This time, there was no one to take my hand and pull me to solid ground. Friends cheered from a distance, sending loving words of encouragement. What heartbreak to see who stood by watching, arms crossed in judgment, words laced with scorn. 

Here’s the thing. Even when the business shutters and the money is truly gone, some will not believe you. And believe me, it’s not just business. It’s personal. Some will assume the worst. The worst of intentions. The worst of you. Assumptions trump discernment. 

In those dark moments, trying to process it all. The hurt. The shame. The fear. One agonizing night, reliving the day’s conversation again. And again. These Words came to me.  

I was raw and the Words are harsh. Angry. A snapshot of a dark moment, after months of dark moments. But with the gift of time and healing, Grace brought many lessons. If you’ve been in Life’s quicksand, may you read these Words and feel less alone. If not (yet), may these Words bring empathy to your future dealings.

9:44 p.m. 30 August 2022

What if we held two opposing truths to be equally true?

She is out of line? Yes. And what if she is also doing her honest best?

She is in the wrong? Yes, And what if she is recovering from real wrongs that she did not invite or deserve?

She is irresponsible? Likely, yes. And what if others were unthinkably irresponsible toward her?

She hurt you? She knows, and it pains her. Also, what if her Heart is breaking such that she can hardly function?

Her approach to life scares you? Reasonable. And what if Life has brought her to a scary place?

You’d like to teach her a lesson? Fair. And what if she’s in the midst of a painful transformation, already navigating lesson upon lesson upon lesson?

You’re angry that she’s laughing? Of course. And what if she’s putting a brave face on it? Consider that, just perhaps, she’s trying to turn things around, rather than rest in a victim space.

I’m not speaking in theory. This is my truth. This past year has been hard, and nothing went as planned. Dark. Painful. Brutal. Unforgiving. Lonely. Financially devastating. Frightening. Humiliating.

In those hard dark painful brutal unforgiving lonely financially devastating frightening humiliating moments, I hurt people along the way. People I care about. Who cared about me. I’ve worn out my welcome, worn them down, broken commitments, broken relationships, in the struggle to simply survive.

That is no excuse. But it is truth. It is a painful acceptance of the loss this year has brought—loss of face, loss of Faith, loss of what was presented as friendship but ended in … well, I don’t even know at this point.

This, I do know. The next time I feel wronged, I will accept that feeling as a possibility. Yet I will hold space for the opposite to be true, as well. I will look for good intentions, hurt spirits, broken moments, unspeakable sorrows. And I will do my very best to sit beside you as you walk through the fire.

It is one thing to honor boundaries. To demand what’s yours. It is quite another thing to see someone struggle and to say, how can I help you move forward right now? How can I insist on my own worth, while recognizing that you’ve lost your way? If I walk with you through this, what might we create together on the other side of this?

Father forgive me, as I forgive those who trespass against me, says the Lord’s Prayer (or something like that).

Perhaps, after all, it is not against me. What if, just what if, they are in their own struggle? That, it seems, is easier to meet with Grace and Love.

Only. Love. Today. May I give this Love without measure. And may I also receive it.

Still I see you watching. I feel you talking. I sense your wrath today. Yet. What if you were to hold opposing truths to be true? Would it ease the hurt? Would it bridge the mistrust? Or is your world only binary?

Perhaps I should seek your forgiveness. But where is your apology for the bitter judgment you’ve inflicted in self-righteousness? Both wrongs are true. But not right.

Fuck you. I forgive you. And I forgive me. Amen.

Ah, forgiveness. I wonder, is it always led by anger and closed with a prayer?¹

What happened, Ash? I can’t share that yet. What I can share are the lessons I’ve taken from it. I don’t believe we are sent Life’s quicksand as a lesson. Instead, I believe this subtle distinction: having faced quicksand, how could we not look for the lesson? 

To get out of quicksand, the trick is to move slowly. 

Sudden movements cause you to sink deeper. I surely found that out—on the beach that morning and metaphorically. 

Ideally, we would avoid quicksand. How? Here’s what one site advises.²

Be careful where you step. Look for water bubbling up from below the ground, as it may be quicksand. In the same way, be careful who you invest in, be it your time or your money or your Heart. Use extreme caution when going into business with others. Or for that matter, when considering doing Life together. Look for the small disturbances, those may be signs of what’s underneath the surface.

Test before you step to see if the ground is unstable. Watch how someone moves in the world. Have the what-if conversations. Listen to what they are saying, then listen for what they are really telling you. Lean into the warning signs, those that form in your gut long before your brain has processed them. And real talk: if someone won’t sign an agreement—we just have to trust one another, or I can’t seem to get around to reading it—that is a red light. Stop. Walk away. Actually, run! Kenny Rodgers’ The Gambler said it best. “You’d better know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em, know when to walk away, know when to run.”

Be especially aware after a storm. Indeed. I made big decisions on the heels of significant life changes. Caution, there. After a personal storm, take careful steps. Not bold leaps. Monarch butterflies painted on a brick wall may be a sign. Yes, lovely, but consider whether the bricks themselves are stable. Move in Faith while applying logic. There’s no place for emotional decisions when gambling.

Still, even with caution, we can totally step in it! How, then, does one get out? The site instructs:

Eliminate excess weight. Wearing a backpack or shoes? Toss ‘em. True in so many ways! Sometimes what I want is not what I need. I stayed in the Life quicksand longer than necessary because I was holding on too tightly. That just made it worse. Now I know. Start by releasing anything that is heavy. You may find, as I did, that I was clutching fast to something not meant for me. Peace came, finally, with the release.

Breathe. Recenter. Fear, anxiety, worry, dread, panic—all of that—will pull you down. Work at the problem from a calm state. When in fear and lack, it is nearly impossible to focus or to complete a task, even, much less make a plan for how to drag yourself out.

Backpedal. Try to move back to solid ground, just a step or two behind you. Return to what you know is solid footing. Once there, stable again, you can chart a new course.

Keep your head above water. Obvious, yes? Often easier said than done.

Use your resources wisely. The advice is not to reach for nearby branches until you have slowly worked your legs up from the quicksand into a floating position. Goodness, did I learn this the hard way. Grabbing resources while sinking wastes the resources, depleting your options. Keep the resources in reserve, and reach for them only once afloat. 

It is a good idea to ask for help. To have someone attempt to yank you out quickly, however, will not work. Slow and steady support is how we escape the quicksand vacuum. I know this to be true. A bail out wouldn’t solve the problem of how you got there in the first place. Help will come in the most unexpected ways—often in ways that allow incremental but steady progress. There is deep goodness in many and, trust, they will show up for you.

Dear Reader, this is not an easy share but it was on my Heart to do so. I am trusting the process. Open. But I sure do walk with greater awareness these days. Not fear of taking chances. Just awareness. And always, with Love. May it be so for you, as well. XO, Ash

1. Photo credit to Molly Caskey, a beautiful light and pure Soul who walked with me through it all. She took this photo the day the wine shop closed. I’ll never forget it, she said “sit there in the light and tell me, what do you feel?” This is not that photo. Then she said, “now breathe and think about letting it all go, about moving forward.” This. This is that photo.

2. https://www.eaglecreek.com/blogs/articles/adventure-travel-emergency-how-escape-quicksand