Mental Health Reimagined

Just over a year ago, I did something that changed my life forever. I spent 30 days racing across the North Pacific, from Qingdao, China to Seattle, USA as one of 15 crew members aboard a 70-ft racing boat sponsored by Garmin.

Since the trip, many friends, colleagues, and family members have asked me why I did it. It’s a fair question, one I’ve asked myself many times, especially on the boat, where I had plenty of time to reflect on the matter. Nearly 80% of my time at sea was pure boredom, while the other 20% was spent in terror. I spent the entire race oscillating between both ends of the spectrum, rarely free from my own mind.

This only made me wonder further why I had voluntarily signed up for this adventure in the first place. I mean, who would (in her right mind) sign up to live in dangerous, cramped, wet quarters and have all modern comforts stripped away?

Was it because I just love to sail? Or because I thought this could be a productive vacation? Or maybe, just because I’m fascinated by the wonders of the universe?

None of these answers seemed to capture why on earth I’d subject myself to these conditions. Still, I mulled over the question for days and weeks. Until a month after the race, I received a letter from the great Sir Robin Knox Johnston (the first person to ever solo circumnavigate the globe non-stop).

In the letter, he wrote:

“I’m sure there must be times when you wanted to give up, or the comforts of dry land seemed more attractive, but your hard work and determination has proved that goals you never thought possible can be reached and for that you should be extremely proud.

When put in challenging circumstances we often learn something about ourselves, and always come out stronger…”

My eyes stayed fixated on that paragraph, with tears welling up. After months of searching, I’d finally found my answer.

I wanted to learn about myself and test my limits. The answer was that simple. For the same reason people go on long yoga retreats, I chose to sail for 30 days straight in the harshest environment on earth. Because to me, this is what life is all about. It’s about traveling (over and over again) to the space beyond our comfort zones so that we can continue to expand our potential.

After reading Sir Robin Knox Johnston’s words, I decided to sit down and round up some of the lessons I learned about life and about myself on the Pacific. My hope is that by sharing them with you, they inspire you to go out and commit to doing something for yourself that helps you learn about yourself, become, and grow this year.

Here’s what I learned on the boat:

1.    Asking for help isn’t a sign of weakness. During the race, I struggled ask for help. I have always thought of myself as very independent. One stormy morning, I was seasick from the upwind beating. It took an eternity to move from my bunk to the stairwell by myself. I was keeled over and in pain when I realized I hadn’t taken the seasickness pill in my bunk. I felt so weak and could barely move one more step. I sat there and a crew mate behind me asked me if I was okay, I held back my tears, and felt I had no choice but to ask for help. So I did. It made me realize that I have been avoiding asking for help for many years. I hid behind a facade that says I have life under control and need nothing from others, life has a way of breaking down this facade and putting me in a position where I must ask for help. The very desire to be strong was my weakness.

2.    Ego is the enemy of vulnerability. We all have egos. But often, they are disguised as a “can-do” attitude or the feeling that we don’t want to burden others. But often, we are just afraid as being seen as imperfect. We are afraid of being vulnerable and having the façade stripped down. When we let go of our egos and fears, vulnerability flows through.

3.    I can do really hard things. The beauty of being on the boat was that I realized I can survive when all the comforts of land life have been stripped away. I didn’t wash my face or take a shower for 30 days. I hardly slept. We were exposed to the elements 24/7. The wind and tide were always changing, the only constants were cold, wet, and danger. There were times I was scared, exhausted, or injured. But I didn’t give up. I persisted. And realized that I can push through and see a challenge to the end. There is no better feeling. I’m empowered.

4.    There’s a lot I take for granted. Warm showers. A dry comfortable bed. Nutritious meals with fresh vegetables and fruits. I rarely think about how grateful I am for these things. Yet, when I didn’t have them for 30 days, I was completely thrown off. Stepping away makes you realize how much you have to be grateful for.

5.    Life has ups and downs and neither is ever permanent. There were times the boat stood still in the middle of the Pacific because there was no wind at all. The ocean surface felt like a glass and we didn’t know when the wind would pick up again. It was completely out of our control. All we could do was sit, wait, and hope. There were other times when we were facing 70 knots winds with 14-18 meter waves. These are extremely dangerous conditions, which require complete focus. Even with an extremely trained crew, many of us were injured during these storms. But, ultimately, as things do—these conditions always passed. We were always smooth sailing again soon and got closer to our destination.

6.    Connection is key. The hardest thing about being on the boat was having no contact with my family or friends. I was completely off-grid, didn’t have my cell phone or my laptop (racing rules). During times of solitude, I started to recognize the tremendous importance of family, friends, and close relationships. That’s what that makes life worth living.

7.    Sleep is crucial for optimal functioning. For the first ten days on the boat, I couldn’t sleep. The noise was so loud that it felt like it was piercing through my ears. During the days after tossing and turning all night, I couldn’t think clearly or remember what I was supposed to do. On a racing boat when a split-second slower response could make the difference between life or death, this was incredibly dangerous. I spent the rest of the race getting my sleep routine on lock.

We often become engrained in our routines. We go to work, run errands, and come home. We do our best to fit in a work out here and there. Vacations are far and few between. As the years left in our lives become fewer, the list of responsibilities and obligations grows. A time of exploration and growth becomes filled with tedium. We feel stagnated and bored.

We all crave new experiences. We crave the opportunity to break out of our routines and comfort zones to explore what’s possible. Because it is in the novelty of life that we truly discover who we are.

I signed up to race across the Pacific for 30 days to learn about myself. To most people, that sounds crazy. But to me, it was just what I needed.