Ascend. Slowly. From. Every. Dive.

This little statement, ‘Ascend slowly from every dive’ is the mantra drilled into the skull of every scuba beginner. I recall my first PADI lesson in which they help you to don all the heavy gear, and then they wade you into the shallows and start talking. 

I was like ‘Really? Im paying good money to stand in one meter of water and be told taught how to float properly? Let me out into the blue, I’m ready to dive those wrecks and find me some Spanish doubloons!’.  

But once they get you through the basics of how to keep breathing and how to control your depth, they start with this mantra. ‘Never come up quickly. Don’t panic and lose control of your ascent.. because thats what can kill you..’  Sorry.. what was that?  Coming up too fast can WHAT NOW!? 

Scuba is really great fun and I have no desire to put anyone off, and of course neither do the scuba companies, but they will get you to sign indemnity documents making it clear that if you are in any way inclined to forget your training, shoot to the surface and get the bends, that they are not to blame. 

The Bends. Yes, you heard me. The BENDS. It’s not an experience you want. Believe me I know.

The proper term is Decompression Sickness, and it is the result of small bubbles of nitrogen forming in the blood stream due to too-fast ascent from the pressure that we have been immersed in. 

All that compressed air a diver breathes while down there (I’m a classic ‘hungry’ air breather, getting through a tank faster than the average diver) contains nitrogen which gets into your system. It needs to be released gradually as you come up from the depths, allowing the Nitrogen to disperse rather than ‘bubble’.  True to form, I experienced a mild dose of the bends in one of my early dives, having lost control of my ascent and shot to the surface too fast. Evidently a small bubble formed in my shoulder joint which was SO PAINFUL and took a week or more to fully recover.

In case you have just vowed never to try scuba, I have since completed around 250 wonderful dives with no incident and great pleasure. It is a hobby which like all sports has some dangers, but once mastered is a fabulous, restful and life enhancing experience.

But what has this got to do with all you land-lubbers and those saying ‘Sure Phil, you wouldn’t get me on a scuba dive if you paid me, especially after that warning… !?’

Here’s the thing. We are now in an exit strategy as we seek to emerge from lockdown that has some feeling excited, others feeling nervous, and not a few feeling quite scared.

As leaders we may be responsible for decisions around the pace of communities in our care emerging as well as trying to negotiate our own pace and self care. Personality wise we will be on a scale of ‘Let’s just get on with it, we’ve most of us had the jab, so whats all the fuss?’  to ‘I don’t know that I personally ever want to be in a building with a large group of other people ever again’.

Drawing from the diving lesson, here is my analogy.

We have all been immersed in a (global) pandemic and lockdown that has subjected us to pressures that we MAY OR MAY NOT be aware of.  And here’s my point. You may not be fully aware of the effects of what you have just been through.

It’s true that we haven’t all had the same experience of lockdown. Some may have been able to move about and interact with people in a way that has seemed almost ‘normal’. However if you are among that lucky few can I encourage you to be aware of two things: firstly you are still a part of the wider society that has been though this collective trauma, and secondly, you may not be as unaffected as you feel. 

‘The Bends’ play some sneaky tricks. Not least of which is that it can make a diver experience a powerful sense of euphoria. The technical term for this is Nitrogen Narcosis, and its immediate effect is an exaggerated sense of well being that leaves the diver less than alert to their personal danger, and as a consequence the danger that they present to those around them. 

This effect happens while still immersed. The diver feels so euphoric that they feel invulnerable. ‘The world may be falling apart, but I feel invincible!’.  This is a strong warning that something is awry. 

So my advice is just this: Go slowly as you ascend. Go gently and make every step one that your people can engage with at their own pace. We have each had our own unique experience of lockdown, we are each individually fearfully and wonderfully made, but we are also corporately and collectively affected, and our responses to it may or may not be as lucid as we think.

Let’s acknowledge that we (along with the rest of humanity) have been affected through this past year and that we need to ascend slowly if we are to safely emerge into whatever new normal we finally negotiate with one another. 

Just as with diving, there are adventures to be had as well as dangers to avoid. This is a new, uncharted and beautiful landscape to explore as we emerge, one full of opportunities and ‘new things’ to enjoy. 

This is church and society 2.0. An opportunity for a reboot that we could never have contrived. A window in which we can explore all manner of hybrids and new ways of doing and being. Let’s have fun but let’s be gentle with ourselves and those around us.

Let’s find ways to grieve our personal and corporate losses and rebuild in sustainable ways. 

Let’s celebrate our humanity with all its built-in limitations and creative resilience. 

Let’s relearn Sabbath principles and practice new habits of working from a place of rest. 

Let’s realign ourselves with the rhythms of creation and be more attentive to one another.

And let’s give thanks to our wonderful creator and heavenly Father, who makes all things beautiful in their time.