I recently returned from a trip to the beautiful province of Newfoundland, to celebrate my wedding anniversary with my husband. One of our hopes for this trip was to see some whales. We’d heard the end of June/beginning of July was the best time to see them so we were very hopeful.
We booked a whale watching tour with great expectations of seeing the whales, but the whales had other plans that day.
On our last day in Newfoundland, we rented a car to take a long drive out to a beach, infamous for whale sightings—according to the locals. The forecast that day predicted up to 75 millimetres of rain and when we set out on our drive, it appeared the forecast was right. It was like driving through a car wash in some parts of the highway and there was not much to see along the way.
After an hour of driving through torrential rains, rough roads, potholes and fueled by greasy chicken nuggets (from a tiny store in the middle of nowhere) we debated turning around to go home. What if we drove all of this way for nothing? We discussed it and the tiny hope that we might see a whale inspired us to keep going.
We almost drove past the beach because it was not well marked and from the road it looked more like a stockyard with a worn wooden fence lining the stony, gravel parking lot.
After parking the car, we walked along the wooden fence that hid the view of the ocean. When we came around the corner of the fence, we saw a handful of people gazing out at the foggy, misty ocean. No one was talking but their faces were glowing with awe.
There were whales! Dozens of them, gracefully feeding, rolling, and waving their tales in the rolling waves. They were not even 30 feet from the shore. There was a break in the rain and we stood in awe, watching these beautiful whales for almost an hour before the rain started again.
It was breathtakingly magnificent.
I share this to say, had we allowed the rain to deter us from continuing on our mission, we would have missed out on one of the most spectacular, memorable experiences of our lives.
Reflecting on this experience, I can’t help but notice the similarities between our journey to see the whales, and the journey to mental wellness. Sometimes the mental fog of depression, the deep pain of grief, the strain of a difficult relationship or the intense experience of anxiety is so painful and so real that we can lose hope for better days to come.
When our mental health is suffering, it may be difficult to believe that it is worth pushing through the rain. Life brings difficulty and challenge and sometimes our mental health suffers painfully. Sometimes it doesn’t feel worth the energy to keep going, and sometimes there is little energy to pull from.
If that is you, may I encourage you to “find the locals”. Find the people who have been where you are and have made their way through or are making their way through. Find a safe place to be honest about where you are: a friend; a therapist; a family doctor. Find a tiny action that moves you in the direction of feeling better: a short walk; watching a sunset; a warm bath; coffee with a friend. Small, actionable steps will lead you through to better days.
And trust me when I say, some of your best days may still be found in the rain.