“Facing Anxiety”
There must be things more anxiety-producing than a cancer diagnosis, but I’m not familiar with them. After all, unlike Indiana Jones, I’ve never been chased by a giant boulder down a narrow passage. I know I’m not alone in thinking cancer is terrifying. In support groups cancer patients share with me their diagnosis of anxiety. Many explain how they’ve been to doctors and taken medicine but remain anxiety-ridden. Something is clearly wrong. I believe a better-suited prescription is going to the beach, not to the pharmacy. What I mean is—the pills people take may address symptoms of the body, but the mind and soul are often neglected in treatments. I propose a remedy which worked for me: take time for a deep, restorative rest. Right after I heard, “You have breast cancer,” I planned a get-away to Newport Beach.
Though at the time I hadn’t done any research about the sea, I’ve since discovered physicians used to routinely prescribe taking a long resting period at the seashore. As far back as 420 BC, Euripides stated: “The sea washes away the ills of all mankind.” Historically, the Greeks, Romans, and Egyptians all understood the therapeutic properties of seawater. And the Victorian Age was famous for sending people to the seaside for long stretches, in recognition of the holistic healing Nature stimulated. The patients returned refreshed, claiming the experience not only strengthened and invigorated their body, but soothed their mind and soul. This Victorian viewpoint is reflected in Jane Austen’s novel Sandition: [Everyone could] “be benefited by the sea. He held it indeed as certain that no person could be really well, no person…could be really in a state of secure and permanent health without spending at least six weeks by the sea every year. The sea air and sea bathing together were nearly infallible…" When did we abandon our long history of understanding the value of ocean therapy?
I knew not to hope my doctor would prescribe a trip to the coast; and to be fair, maybe he would have liked to, but health insurance policies constrained him. Spending a lengthy time at the seashore seems like sound medical advice to me, though I could just imagine a Medicare agent’s reaction. There would be shouts demanding a larger and darker red stamp to imprint: CLAIM DENIED. Sadly, a claim denied is a philosophy denied. If the thought of a prescription written for sun and surf seems almost silly to us, it only serves to validate that as a society we’ve discounted the role of natural recuperative rest for anxiety and other ailments.
How quickly we have collectively dismissed oceans in favor of potions. Yet not only examples in history point to ocean-healing as a real thing, but so does the latest research. Multiple studies prove that depression is lessened on the shore, and sea water strengthens the body against viruses and bacteria. We know how damaging stress can be. In fact, Dr. Wallace J. Nichols, author of The Blue Mind, claims stress causes more than 60% of the disease we have today! The answer is splashing us in the face; immersion in water is a proven stress-reliever. Thus, the latest findings confirm the ancient wisdom: the sea helps us restore our physical, mental, and emotional well-being.
In distress at the news of cancer, I intuitively headed for California. My time at the beach helped prepare me for grueling months of chemotherapy followed by surgery. I prayed more, reflected more, and listened to the pounding waves. My only schedule was sunrise and sunset. The churning waves, foaming white on jagged rocks sounded to me like a calming whisper from the Creator—powerful, but gentle. Blue salty tongues licked at my ankles as I walked along the sandy shore. The plaintive cries of seagulls punctuated the heavy air as they swooped to catch their prey. Breathing in deeply the briny air, I begin to meditate, focusing on the farthest points of immense, unending blue. In awe I watched as a world of water thundered toward me. At the bowl’s edge, I felt small, yet unafraid. My confidence came from recognizing though I was not in control of things, the Lord was governing. I saw that even the boundaries of the mighty ocean were dictated. In Job 38:11, the Lord instructed: “This far you may come and no farther; here is where your proud waves halt.”
On my last day at the beach, I took a solitary stroll, letting the sand massage my bare feet. Finally, I had to return home, but my anxiety had washed away. I now understood Longfellow’s lines in Sound of the Sea, “And inspirations, that we deem our own, are some divine foreshadowing and foreseeing of things beyond our reason or control.” I was ready to face cancer treatments. In a way, part of my healing had already begun. The sea had affected its cure. It had imparted strength to my mind and soul.
Reflection:
1. Have you taken time lately to rest in nature—to draw strength from the great outdoors?
2. Have you noticed the beauty that surrounds us? It’s inspiring to make a list in gratitude.
3. What is something enjoyable and simple you could do (perhaps that you haven’t done for a while) to help ease stress?