Ways Out

An Essay by Stephen Geez
www.StephenGeez.com

Art by Dizzy

PoyzinPainter2

Do you have a sound exit strategy?

I hope you have at least one.  If not, maybe it’s time you start planning.  You can never have too many.

It’s an awful feeling, suddenly finding yourself trapped.  We’ve all felt it to varying degrees at various times as we voraciously live our variable lives.  Sometimes we can see it coming; sometimes it’ll catch us by surprise.

We take comfort in knowing that somehow we usually manage to extricate ourselves, no big deal, but there inevitably comes a time when the stakes are high, options dangerously limited, precious time ticking away.  That’s when having gone in with a sound exit strategy can prove priceless.

I once joined my scuba-buddy Bill exploring the reefs off Cozumel, Mexico.  Late in a dive at Kent’s Caves, he grew curious about some activity inside a sandy-bottomed coral underpass in water more than a hundred feet deep.  Pursuing a better look, he wriggled head-first into a space barely big enough to accommodate him, leaving me with the rather less-than-scenic view of a reef that appeared embarrassed about its unnatural protuberance of hairy calves and rubber fins.

Several beats passed.  Then Bill tried to back his way out.

And got stuck.

Now, in scuba-diver parlance, people who do this are referred to in technical terms ranging from “knucklehead” to “victim” or “drowning fatality.”  Scuba exploration is one of those activities during which simple miscalculations are quickly compounded.  In a crisis at depth, the stakes are high, options dangerously limited, precious time ticking away.  At most, his tank offered five minutes of air, and he would need at least four of that to ascend and decompress before reaching the surface.

He clearly had not expected to find himself so unceremoniously stuck.  Otherwise, he might not have gone in, or at least he would have planned better.  He could have first swept out some of the sand to enlarge the opening.  At minimum, he might have cleared the other side to provide an alternate exit.  He should have kept one hand in reach of his BC release in case he needed to slip temporarily out of his gear.

To his credit, though, he did go in with the best backup plan of all:

A buddy.

Smart divers never dive alone.  They work as a team, monitor each other, and always stand—fly, climb, swim—ready to assist.  He never would have descended to that depth, let alone risked wedging himself into a crevice, if not for the presence of his (smart, charismatic, and resourceful) friend.

Noting how his movements grew uncharacteristically frantic, I swam close enough to grip his leg, a signal of calming reassurance.  He relaxed enough for me to shift his body for a better look.  I could see light ahead, but not enough space for him to work through.  I tested moving him several ways and discovered his tank had become lodged in a crevice.  I had to push him in deeper to dislodge it.  Once I gently eased him free, he signaled the okay, and we headed for the surface.

I think an elaborate thank-you dance on the dive boat would have been nice, but I didn’t object when he offered to pay for dinner that night.

You don’t have to be underwater to find yourself trapped.  Maybe you’re buried in debt, or you want out of a relationship that is proving unhealthy.  Your transportation can break down, and suddenly you’re mired in snow or sweeping away in the flood.  Maybe someday you’ll find yourself overimbibed, with no designated driver; or far from home, your wallet lost or stolen.

Have you charted your escape route in case of fire?  Do you keep basic repair and survival kits in your car?  Do you plan every adventure with contingencies for worst-case scenarios?

Whether the goal is to have more fun or simply endure an ordeal without panic, preparedness brings peace of mind.  It’s a lot easier to slide into the stifling confines of an MRI machine if you’re holding the panic button, knowledge that you do have a fast, sure way out.

Even if you never have to use it.

Preparedness includes anticipating potential changes in perspective.  That vertiginous view from the summit can prove surprisingly scary, but don’t forget that if you found a way to climb up, that means there must be a way down.  Have the foresight to anticipate your controlled descent; then let your plan trump your fear.

Sometimes you can be trapped and not even know it.  The right buddy is someone you trust to clue you in, but you must be willing to listen.

Sometimes you can feel trapped simply because you don’t see the way out.  The right buddy offers a signal of calming reassurance, but you must be ready to trust.

When you’re looking for light at the end of the tunnel, a buddy doesn’t just have your back . . .

A buddy brings the map.

But you need to plan ahead, too, because your buddy is also depending on you.

Don’t stop peering into caves, climbing peaks, probing depths.  Those are some of the best ways to discover what life is all about.  But always think twice before you venture in.

And have a sound exit strategy.

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