Unclogged

Unclogged drains allow water to pass through.

Unclogged inner worlds allow life to pass through.

Last week, I tackled a clogged drain in the bathtub. The drain has one of those tops you push down to seal, then push down again to release it. In case you can’t picture it—like me before living in this house—here's what it looks like:

You might be impressed that I was cleaning a clogged drain, but really, don’t bother. It’s pretty easy to clean: just unscrew the top, remove the rubber seal, and you’re good to go with your tool of choice for digging.

The tangled hair was like woven fabric down there. I don't know how it let any water through at all. You know, that's a little like when you get around to excavating your inner life. It can be a knotted mess in there, blocking anything from getting through.

It was gross, but at least the clog was dried out, not the wet, rotting kind that makes you dry heave.

A few days later, I went to use the tub. I pushed down the drain stopper, turned on the water, and watched the water run right out of the tub as fast as it came in. I repeatedly pushed the stopper down, thinking it just needed to click for a better seal. But no luck even after the tenth try.

I paused, realized I had no energy, or brain cells even, to deal with the drain, and shifted gears away from the tub.

The past version of me would have been irritated, maybe even grown infuriated, all the while thinking “I can’t believe I broke the drain,” and “these things always happen to me,” and possibly escalating to “nothing goes right for me.” Which is pretty darn close to “nothing is right with me,” which I think is an undercurrent of where these thoughts came from in the first place (past me didn’t know that).

If deep down in some invisible space deep within you, you are not right (that is, you are bad), it taints your whole experience of being alive. And honestly, it’s like that knotted hair clogging the drain, it just sits there and knots more and more, tangling with your experience and not letting life pass through you. Forget passing through you; most of life is blocked from even touching you. Heartbreaking, truly.

Back in real drain land, I was faintly aware of my old reactions in the distance as I calmly walked away from the tub and thought, “Later, I’ll deal with this later.” It was as if the old superhighway of thoughts was off in the distance, and I no longer had a bridge to get me there. Not because I retrained my brain, but because I learned to be in my body, which then, in turn, retrained my brain.

I did get back to the drain a few days later. I unscrewed the top and wondered if maybe the rubber seal just needed to be flipped?

Indeed, yes, that simple.

Reassembly is required after an excavation, though that's usually not the difficult part.

Important side note: The drain does not need to be fully cleaned out to work well.

Complement with: Opposite Directions and Checked Out