Going Deeper

Finding peace in a chaotic world

I don’t know about you, but some days before I can even get out of bed, I start to wonder what kind of chaos the day is going to bring. It seems like the whole world is on fire right now. If you watch the news for more than five minutes, you're almost guaranteed to see another story of horror or heartbreaking injustice. Even when those events are happening thousands of miles away, you can still feel the weight of them. Our bodies and emotions are not made to take in this constant onslaught of atrocities. Eventually, it will damage us emotionally, psychologically, and even physically.

I just finished reading Tish Harrison Warren’s new book, What Grows in Weary Lands. (I really enjoyed it!) In one chapter, she writes about how when life becomes a bit overwhelming, we usually react in one of three ways. Flame out, numb out, or go deep. She explains it like this:

“To flame out is the most dramatic option. This is when people, feeling trapped, try to escape by exploding their own lives without much thought of the collateral damage. This is the stuff that people gossip about: the affairs, the arrests, the public meltdowns, the scandals.

To numb out, the most common response, is when we simply anesthetize ourselves through food, drink, work, shopping, screens, or easy comforts. It’s the little avoidances, the little addictions, the little denials that build a pattern.

And then, by God’s grace, there’s the third option: Go deep. To go deep into God, into mystery, into self-understanding, into repentance, into relationships with others, into the practice of faith.”¹

Personally, I have done all three at different stages in my life. I flamed out in my younger years, not having the emotional capacity to deal with my unhappiness in any other way. Man, oh man, I had some spectacular flame outs! Ugh. #embarrassing

Then came the numbing out stage. Honestly, I still find myself there some days. Scrolling through endless funny pet reels on Instagram feels much kinder to my nervous system than paying attention to what’s on fire all around me. But the truth is, it isn't really helping me—or anyone else. It may offer a temporary escape, but it also keeps me from engaging with the world in meaningful ways. Over time, that kind of avoidance stunts my growth and quietly shapes who I am becoming in ways I don't like.

So that leaves the third option - going deep.

“To go deep means looking with unflinching honesty at the truth of things - the pain in our lives, the sins and weaknesses in ourselves and those around us. It means learning to receive anew the love of God and the rich goodness of life.

To go deep requires us to remain with difficult questions, relationships, practices and commitments, while also remaining alive to God and to ourselves. It requires us to learn to exist, and to thrive, in places of incompleteness, unfulfillment, liminality, and uncertainty.”²

Going deep isn’t easy. It’s seriously hard work. At times I feel like a scuba diver, swimming deeper and deeper, looking for some mysterious treasure at the bottom of the ocean, where it’s cold and dark and even scary. Some days I feel like I’m going to run out of oxygen in my tank and I have to fight off panic. My body is tense while I hold my breath as long as I can - desperately searching for whatever I’m looking for. Those are my white knuckling days.

But on other days, it’s easier to give into the deep. I remind myself that I can come up for air anytime and to just look around and take in the marvelous view. That’s when I usually find a treasure. I’ll come across some glorious little nugget of wisdom, or enlightenment, or “ah-ha” moment that makes me smile. The fear is gone and replaced with genuine delight.

One thing I’ve discovered about myself in going deep is that I can’t go wide at the same time. I think of my life as a body of water. If you pour a cup of water on a large serving platter, the water will spread out very thin, almost seeming to disappear. But if you pour that same cup of water into a glass, you will see it takes a much different shape - now it’s deeper and clearer. I don’t want my life to disappear right before my eyes, so I’ve narrowed my container, so to speak, so I can see it with more clarity.

I find I have much less bandwidth for shallow and wide in anything - work, conversations, and even relationships. Don’t get me wrong, I have a wide berth of friends and I’m grateful for that. However, although each relationship holds a special space, they are not all the same, and don’t all carry the same weight. I save my deepest self for fewer people these days. Only for those who are willing to go deep with me. Those are the friendships and conversations that give me life and help fill up my container when I’m feeling dry. Those are the relationships that help bring me peace in this chaotic world. Those are the friends who keep encouraging me to grow and learn and question and wrestle with all of life’s great mysteries. And I’m so very grateful for them.

I posted this clip on my Instagram the other day from a recent conversation between Amy Poehler and Anne Lamott on Amy’s podcast Good Hang with Amy Poehler. Amy begins by talking about how crazy the word can seem all around us and asks Anne to read a passage that she wrote when she was turning 68 yrs old. Anne reads about the importance of friendships for keeping ourselves grounded and at peace. I think many of you will resonate with her sentiments.

You can watch the entire episode here:

So, what about you? When life hits you hard, do you tend to flame out, numb out, or go deep? And what does “going deep” mean to you?

Love ya’ll… M

1. Quote from Tish Harrison Warren’s book, What Grows In Weary Lands, pg 22

2. Quote from Tish Harrison Warren’s book, What Grows In Weary Lands, pg 23