Water and Mental Health

Simple Goodness

Water and Mental Health link the basic goodness of the one to the yearning for the other. When elemental forces become corrupted, our need for simple purity is greater than ever. Water has something to offer, but like wisdom, it’s only for those willing to drink its goodness.

The expression, “to poison the well,” is powerful because it is so honest. Water, an elemental force in nature, makes up between fifty-five to seventy-five percent of the human body (depending on age and gender), and is a necessary ingredient for a healthy life. It is one of the most valuable resources on the planet. Plain water. Our need for clean water is simple. Without it, we suffer and eventually die.

In much the same way, our mental, emotional, and spiritual lives need the lubricating influence of natural beauty, positive thoughts, and encouraging support, in a safe environment, to nourish creativity and productivity.

We celebrated Groundhog Day last month, and though there were all sorts of amusing memes about poor Punxsutawney Phil going into a witness protection program or led off in cuffs for his “six more weeks of winter” prediction, our human desire for “better times” remains undaunted, even to the point where we listen, laughingly, to a rodent’s seasonal prediction. There is a deep-seated part of the human condition that perpetually wants what isn’t yet, be it a healthier body or a happier state of mind. But that yearning is a positive thing; it makes us strive for what is good and healthy.

This unusually cold and snowy winter has made late winter harder to endure. Ironically, these challenges dovetail nicely with the church’s Lenten cycle as a time of prayer, repentance, and healthy fasting. After the holiday excesses, a time of cleansing, turning inward, reflection, and simplification turns the humus of our soul so that roots can dig deep before spring bursts forth.

How do water, mental health, late winter, and Lent connect? Back to the idea of a poisoned well. During a typical day, no matter how perfect I might plan things, numerous surprises catch me off guard: a computer password that doesn’t work, an engine light glowing on the dashboard of my car, the sudden death of a neighbor, a friend’s emotional struggle, a pulled muscle, a leaky pipe, an appointment no-show, news headlines that leave my head spinning and my heart grieved, not enough time to tame my to-do list, a dead cat on the road that deserves a decent burial, and other situations too numerous to count. So many grievous events occur throughout the course of the day that I sometimes feel like a swimmer in a thick, sticky tide, trying to make it to land but continually pulled further from where I want to be. I’m not swimming in clean water; I’m up to my neck in sewer muck.

With the power of the World Wide Web and our wildly unpredictable interconnectedness, it isn’t that one well is poisoned—the earth’s entire subterranean system has been inundated with aggravating anger and complaints. That makes it hard to enjoy a healthy drink of water, much less peace of mind.

Sadly, I often forget to drink water. I enjoy my cup of coffee in the morning, I dutifully sip a glass of orange juice at breakfast, pour milk into my cereal at noon, and maybe indulge in a cup of herbal tea in the evening. But I really need water. Without it, my whole system falls off kilter, and that includes my mental state. I’m more likely to feel depressed and exhausted when I haven’t been drinking enough plain water. It’s such a simple fix, and I know my body needs it, but I forget. I get busy and distracted, and I don’t do what I should. I don’t need a freshwater lake, just a few cups to get my system balanced again.

It is very much the same for my emotional and spiritual being. I know I need quiet time, away from hectic daily demands, but life takes over, and I find myself hurrying from one need-to-fix-it-now situation to another. Repeat day after day.

Lent can be a mental/emotional/spiritual drink of clean water, an opportunity to rid myself of the toxins that poison my life. There’s no stopping the internet chaos, bad news, sickness, or faulty passwords. Life is full of disturbing challenges. But I can protect my personal well-being.

The soil can act as a natural screening device, allowing water and healthy minerals through, while keeping indigestible bits out. I find I must screen my life in much the same way. Recently, I have asked certain politically “informed” people not to share their “news” with me. I routinely delete scammers from my online mail. Few invitations are accepted to public events where I feel overwhelmed. Even the cats have discovered that I now set stricter boundaries.

With AI infiltrating every aspect of our online lives, I have started refusing stifling “corrections” and allowing my simple, imperfect humanity to show through. Check out my Spotify read-aloud posts. They are very imperfect. But they are also genuine and what I, a non-tech person, can manage on a busy day.

So, this season, my focus is twofold: drink healthy water to keep my body working properly and stop allowing poison into my mental and emotional wells so I can focus on creative and productive projects.

A good life doesn’t have to be complicated. As water teaches us, simpler is often better.