A Portuguese Man of War Love Tap

A few years ago, I was snorkeling off the coast of Hawaii on a dolphin tour boat.

It was one of those perfect mornings. The sky was crystal blue, the water was unbelievably clear, and before long a pod of wild dolphins swam right past us. They were so close I could see their eyes looking back at me. As I dove down I could even hear humpback whales singing nearby.

It felt like pure magic.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a few small blue bubbles drifting beside me.

"Huh, Those look like little jellyfish," I thought.

"Maybe I should swim away."

Instead I thought, "Nah... this moment is too beautiful."

Less than a second later, something wrapped across my face, neck, shoulders, and the back of my head.

The pain was instant and excruciating.  

Imagine the strongest electrical shock and chemical burn you've ever felt happening at the same time. I had no idea what hit me, but I later learned it was a Portuguese Man of War.

I surfaced gasping for air, only to discover the wind made the pain even worse. 

I decided to stay in the water and watch the dolphins some more, but a few minutes later my stomach and leg muscles began cramping, so I climbed back onto the boat.

That's when the pain really intensified.

The cool ocean breeze felt like someone holding a blowtorch to my skin. I couldn't stay quiet. I started screaming.

I grew up as a preacher's kid, so naturally... I knew every swear word in the English language.

I think I used all of them that day.

The unfortunate part was that the boat was full of young families with little kids.

The crew poured vinegar over me, but nothing seemed to help. They called an ambulance and headed back to shore.

By the time I arrived at the emergency room, I thought, Surely they'll give me something that makes this stop.

They did.

It barely touched the pain.

Then I remembered something I'd been practicing for years.

Present Moment Awareness.

I stopped fighting what was happening.

Instead of wishing the pain away or worrying about what might happen next, I focused on my breathing.

I noticed the sounds in the room.

I observed the sensations in my body without trying to push them away.

I simply stayed with this moment.

Something surprising happened.

The pain didn't disappear.

But my suffering began to.

For the first time since I'd been stung, there was space around the pain.

The panic faded into the background.

In the foreground was simply breathing... being alive... this moment.

An hour later my friends picked me up from the hospital. They laughed at my swollen face, bought me ice cream, and we spent the rest of the day joking together.

It turned out to be one of my favorite memories from that trip.

That experience taught me something I haven't forgotten.

Most of our suffering isn't created by what's happening.

It's created by the story our minds make up about what's happening.

Mine sounded like this:

"What if I die? Why did this happen to me? This vacation is ruined. Nobody can help me. Everything sucks."

Those thoughts were definitely there.

But I didn't believe them.

I let them come and go while returning my focus to what was actually true in that moment.

A breath.

A heartbeat.

The sounds around me.

The fact that I was still alive.

Ironically, one of the most painful experiences of my life became one of my greatest teachers.

Whenever life becomes difficult now, I think about that Portuguese Man of War.

It reminds me that peace doesn't just come from being comfortable.

It also comes from staying present and accepting what is regardless.

By focusing on the present moment, we can develop a remarkable resiliency, like being in the calm center of a storm.

Thank you, my animal kingdom friend!