Lose Yourself to Find Yourself

Cold exposure, Flow, Awe, and Gandhi

Generated by Dall-E by me

In February 2020, before Covid broke out in Europe, I made a trip to Poland. I was on a quest to improve myself, at least my health - physical and mental.

But I returned with a bigger lesson, one that surprised me.

Lessons in an Ice-Cold Stream

I was there for a Wim Hof retreat, a method combining cold exposure, breathing techniques and a commitment mindset.

One day, I find myself in the snowy forest of Mount Snezka on the Polish-Czech border, together with 10 other people I had just met a few days ago, but who already felt more like old friends.

After half an hour of hiking we reach a stream. Our instructors tell us: "This is it." Slowly but surely, people start to undress. Moments later we stand there wearing nothing but swimwear, in the middle of winter, snowy trees all around us. In the background, we hear the gentle sound of water, nothing else.

Our instructors keep it brief. They don't need to over-explain what's next. We all know why we are here and what we want to do.

Then, the first person walks into the stream. He lowers into the water. Two minutes pass and he comes out, with a big grin and brimming over with life. Then the next person goes in. One by one, we go into the stream, nervous, but focused and committed. And we come out again, energized and with joy.

When it's my turn, I notice my thoughts run in circles. It's a whirlwind of anxious, critical, uncertain, self-defeating thoughts. It's a mix tape of voices, my own and those of others. I hear things like:

• "This is stupid, Daniel"

• "Are you sure this is safe?

• "You are not ready, yet"

• "Who does something like that?"

• "You'll catch a cold".

That these types of thoughts come up, doesn't surprise me. Yes, they are typically less intense, playing more in the background. But what I'm about to do is also not typical.

So I continue. I step into the water. It's cold. I take a few more steps, careful not to slip. Then, on an out-breath, I lower into the water.

What's next, surprises me.

The thoughts are gone instantly. But I am still there.

I am breathing, rapid and restless at first, but slowing it down and breathing deeper with every passing second. After 1 minute I have found a deep, natural rhythm. And I start to enjoy my ice bath:

• Time has slowed down

• I feel my body, my pulse, my breath

• I enjoy the scenery of the snowy forest

• I'm in awe, being part of the scenery, in the middle of a stream

• I look at my instructors and fellow travellers and I smile at them.

Reflecting on this experience, I learnt this:

You Are Not Your Thoughts

I had heard this before and understood it intellectually.

But now I experienced it. That makes all the difference.

Before stepping into the water, my thoughts painted a reality that was dispelled instantly with the help of the cold. Very little of what I thought was real, was actually real as I sat in the cold stream.

For me and many ice bathers, the cold is a reminder of that lesson.

But it's a just one reminder. There are others like meditation and breathing.

One layer deeper, there is an even bigger lesson:

Lose Yourself to Find Yourself

When I lost my thoughts, I also lost myself, at least a superficial sense of who I am.

At the same time, I felt more connected to sensations and I took in more of my surroundings. I felt more connected to nature. It wasn't 'me' and 'a stream' and 'the forest'; it was 'me in a stream in the forest'. Even writing this, I can sense critical thoughts bubble up, trying to call BS on what I just wrote.

Luckily, research lends some support:

• Flow. When we are engaged in a challenge that we're just skilled enough to meet, we lose all sense of time. And we come away, having grown in complexity.

• Awe. The feeling of "being in the presence of something vast that transcends your current understanding of the world” is a key source of happiness. The resulting feeling of 'small self' contributes to prosocial behaviour and reduces stress.

In the stream I felt in flow and in awe.

But I also felt that way many times in politics:

• Connecting with people who joined a political event for the first time

• Really listening to people's concerns when campaigning on the streets

• Building a new political organization, with a few people and fewer resources

Lose yourself to find yourself: you can do that on your own.

But I think there is something even more fulfilling about feeling flow and awe when you work together with others on something beyond yourself.

It's a lesson Mahatma Gandhi had in mind when he said:

“The best way to find yourself is to lose yourself in the service of others.”

---

What I loved this week

Quote by Maya Angelou

"You may encounter many defeats, but you must not be defeated. In fact, it may be necessary to encounter the defeats, so you can know who you are, what you can rise from, and how you can still come out of it."

Podcast episode by Freakonomics

Post by Thom Hartmann (and his newsletter)

Earth is Earth Because of Life