Sinking To Survive

I always feel like I’m drowning.

At this point I’m used to it. But I do question how much of this is inherited and how much of this is self-inflicted.

Last year, I read an article on Epigenetics. The gist of it is that we’re shaped by the genes of our parents and grandparents, but their hardship or trauma can leave a mark on us.

My maternal and paternal family fled Vietnam just as the North captured Saigon. They jumped on any boat, plane or helicopter and eventually found refuge in Australia, the United States and the United Kingdom.

I was born in the U.K. But I've always wanted to know more about the Vietnam war. Unfortunately, it’s not taught in schools. And my family — like most Vietnamese families in the West — refuse to talk about what happened and what they needed to do to survive.

I can’t even begin to fathom what it’s like to give up everything you built and flee from your own country. I can't imagine the struggle of having only the clothes on your back, no money, no home, and desperately searching for safety.

Perhaps epigenetics is real, and this feeling of ‘just survive’ has infused itself in to my DNA.

I question how much of this is self-inflicted. Because I tend to gravitate towards professions or interests – poker, investing and business – where uncertainty abounds.

All three require surviving as the main skill. Yes, being smart and having an edge will get you far, but it’s pointless if you can’t survive.

Perhaps, I’m drawn to this feeling of always trying to survive, because it feels familiar to me.

I don’t have to do any of this, yet I want to take the hardest and most uncomfortable path in life. Poker was sure a damn hard way to earn an easy living. Owning your own business is the same. Both of which I recommend to nobody.

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Professionally, the last few months have been a bit shit.

Due to a mixture of my own poor decision making and circumstances out of my control, copywriting work has dried up. Back in November, I failed to present my pricing list clearly to an inbound prospecting client. And my main client has taken much longer than I expected to re-brand.

This has been the source of my anxiety, as I’m feeling the pressure to make money. Of course, I’ve taken action and sent out cold emails. But as each day passes and nothing comes to fruition, the pressure gauge moves up a click.

These are the unsexy parts of having your own copywriting business. People on the outside only ever see the glory. They don’t see the part where I send a carefully crafted cold email, get on a call, diagnose the problems I can solve, create a proposal, craft an offer and get told, “We’re not quite ready to execute that, but we’ll be in touch when we are,” or “We've changed our mind. We don’t want copy, we want an SEO strategy,” or “...*silence*.”

Although these are new setbacks and challenges, they feel all too familiar. It’s the same feeling I experienced during the losing periods in poker. It's the uncertainty. It's the not knowing when things will change. It's the dread that things could get worse.

And as much as my irrational self screams, “Jason, we need to get a fucking win,” the only thing that matters is that I exercise emotional control. I must remain calm and composed.

There’s a part of Navy SEAL training called ‘drown proofing.’ The sergeant binds your hand behind your back, ties your feet together and throws you into a 9-foot deep pool.

Your goal is to survive for five minutes.

Like most Navy SEAL training, it’s tough. The majority of cadets fail this task. When they’re thrown in the water, many of them panic. Many of them scream. And many struggle until they slip under water and lose consciousness.

But some people make it because they understand two counterintuitive lessons.

The first lesson: the more you struggle to keep your head above water, the more likely you are to sink.

With your arms and legs tied up, it’s impossible to keep yourself afloat at the surface for the full five minutes. Any attempts to keep yourself afloat will cause you to sink faster.

The way to survive is to let yourself sink to the bottom of the pool. When you reach the bottom you gently push yourself off of the floor and let the momentum carry you back to the surface. Once you break the surface, you take a big gulf of air and repeat the process over again.

The second lesson: the more you panic, the more oxygen you will burn, fall unconscious and drown.

In a sick and paradoxical way, your survival instincts turn against you. The more intense your desire to breathe, the less you will be able to breathe. The more intense your will to live, the greater the chance you will die.

“The harder we try with the conscious will to do something, the less we shall succeed. Proficiency and results come only to those who have learned the paradoxical art of doing and not doing, or combining relaxation with activity.” - Aldous Huxley

Drown-proofing is a test of emotional self-control in extreme danger. How well can you control your own impulses? How well can you relax in the face of death? How well can you deal with the pressure?

Emotional self-control is more important than resilience, strength or ambition. They’re more important than how smart you are, what university you graduated from or how much money you make.

The ability to let go of control when you want it most is the most important skill for anyone to develop. And this doesn’t just apply to SEAL training, but to life too.

The more work I demand, the less work is going to come in. The more security I want, the more insecurity I will feel. The more freedom I want, the more it limits me.

So, I’m letting go. I’m surrendering myself. Not out of weakness. But out of respect to the universe that certain things are beyond my control.

I’m going to lean into the fear and uncertainty. I’m going to lean into the fact that I have no fucking clue what I’m doing.

And have faith that every time I reach the bottom, I have the strength to push myself back to the surface just for that momentary gulp of air.