Tool of the Month - The Dive Response

If you learn this tool, not only will you know exactly what to do when you encounter a panic attack, but it might even make you immune to panic attacks altogether. Here’s how to perform the Dive Response (aka. The Mammalian Dive Reflex)

Here’s the cue: You’re having a panic attack, with rapid heart rate, intense fear, derealization…

  1. Get ice (or anything frozen or very cold)

  2. Put the ice in a large bowl and fill the bowl with water.

  3. Hold your breath and plunge your face into the ice cold water. Imagine you’re diving into an ice-cold lake. Only come up for a quick breath when needed and keep “diving” back under the water for the next minute or two.

Your panic will disappear in less than a minute (rather than the 30 minutes it might take to dissipate otherwise).

But what if I don’t have a bowl and water and all that?

If you don’t have a bowl and water, but you do have an ice cube (or again, a bag of frozen veggies, or even a very cold can of soda), take the ice cube and touch it to your face, Focus on running it back and forth along your cheek bones and the thin, sensitive skin beneath your eyes. When it starts to hurt, switch to the other cheek bone.

This tool is 100% effective because it leverages a trait we all have as mammals. When we dive into water, our brain tells our heart to slow down, because it is trying to conserve our oxygen. Panic (much like fire) requires oxygen, and without an ample supply… it simply flames out.

The tool behind this tool could be called, always have a tool. More on that in the parade of shadows.

Testify!

This edition of Testify! is brought to us by James, a “gearhead” who writes online about the adventures he has in his own garage. Recently James had a major setback in his adventures, followed by a recovery that involved practicing the tool, Loss Processing. If you’ve ever tried to use that tool, you might be able to relate to James’ struggle with how it challenges you, just before it helps you move forward. James writes:

3/30/2025. A day that will forever live in infamy in my life. The day I lost something very near and dear to my heart. The day I crashed my car. A car that for almost ten years I have been restoring and modifying. A 1981 Toyota Corolla, colloquially known to me and my allies (and now you) as bluesdrivemonster.

Before the crash I never considered if something made of metal and plastic could die. Or if something made of metal and plastic could have a soul. The rational answer is “no”, but based on my recent experiences my new answer would have to be "maybe" if not “yes”. Metaphysics aside, I can now confidently say that crashing a car can be synonymous with corporeal death.

This is the state I found myself in when I was introduced to the tool of loss processing. It was safe to say I felt the loss but I wasn’t sure I was ready or even knew what it meant to give up everything. And I certainly didn’t have infinite energy to give. I felt untethered or unmoored. The object of my passion, my creative outlet, and part of my identity for the past 15 years had been destroyed. I had removed myself from the local car community I was a part of and no longer had access to the freedom that only a car can provide. I wasn’t ready to give any of that up.

Over the next weeks and months and after dealing with police reports and insurance adjusters eventually the car was back in my garage. I was fortunate to have bluesdrivemonster back but now I was constantly confronted with the new state of things. And frankly, my new reality fucking sucked. But in fact this new reality I was living in was the best introduction (and forced acceptance) to Stutz’s Aspects of Reality. Pain, Uncertainty and Constant Work. My car was smashed, which hurt me deeply. There was no guarantee it would ever be put back together. But if there was any way it was ever going to drive again it would only be possible through my blood, sweat, and tears. Pain, uncertainty, and constant work embodied in a crashed 1981 Toyota Corolla. It is with this new understanding I felt I was able to unlock the final part of loss processing, infinite energy. I may only have one life to live, but with that life I can use my energy to build Corollas the best I know how (and I know how to do it damn well).

Filled with this newfound energy and conviction to rebuild what I had lost, I went back into the garage. And it was while rebuilding and listening to a podcast I was introduced to Camus’ ideas on revolting against the absurd thanks to Philosophize This! The absurd is the tension we live in created by our natural desire for meaning and the meaninglessness of the universe. To revolt against the absurd is to acknowledge the universe doesn’t care, but I do. And the simple act of caring is enough to live a happy and fulfilled life.

This is why Camus says one must imagine Sisyphus happy. The universe doesn’t care about my 1981 Toyota Corolla but I do. Accepting the pain, suffering, and constant work of rebuilding bluesdrivemonser is my act of revolting against the absurd and finding happiness while doing it. Wrenching on Corollas is my boulder (or is it a wheel in my case?) and I’ll gladly roll it to the top of the mountain as long as my hands can hold a wrench.

Ultimately I feel I have a better understanding of how my tragic and absurd experience can define me and how my story can connect me to others. How it helps me understand my identity, and how it helps me integrate painful experiences into the meaningful whole that is my life. It's the story of my quest to be the Akira Nakai of Corollas and to share the quest with people.

So, in the end, what did I do? I started writing about absurd things on my website The Garage Diaries. And I bought another 1981 Corolla, this one is named juliet.

Parade of Shadows

During the pandemic I was an “essential worker”, plying my craft at an inner city mental health clinic walk-in center. Panic attacks were at an all time high. Dozens of people called me via crisis hotline during those first weeks of the plague, isolated and forcibly evicted from their status quo. Panic struck the staff too. One of my co-workers went into a panic attack just sitting at her desk where she, not even 10 minutes earlier, had been calmly checking email. One of my clients at the time was an EMT. She was increasingly having to call in sick when a panic attacks hit her just minutes before clocking in. So the impact of panic was profound. Having the Dive Response at the ready allowed my colleague to recover quickly and she had the powerful example of personal experience with this tool to share it with all her clients. And the EMT… well she was armed not only with the Dive Response, but she never failed to take a bottle of frozen water with her in her lunch cooler, ready to press to her face at a moment’s notice. As it turned out, she never had to use it. More on that later.

Now contrast a tool like this with Shadow-Work or IFS. Shadow-work is amazing. By extending curiosity toward mysterious forces within, you can transform yourself into the compassionate grown-up you always wished you had growing up. But when these protective parts act out with compelling sensations and emotions, you might be hard pressed to summon the creativity to improvise your way through a healing inner dialogue in the heat of the moment. Practicing such dialogues while calm can build up muscle memory. But in the meantime we have tools like the Dive Response that require little if any creativity or devoted practice. It allows us to act NOW, and ask fascinating questions later. So I’m putting the Dive Response in that emergency category. It lacks the usual curiosity and patience of a loving shadow relationship. After all it physically shuts something down within us. It ends the conversation. So I wouldn’t advise using this kind of forcible response at the slightest provocation. But if something is holding you hostage… if something can make you feel intense anger or fear for a half hour or longer… well then, let’s appreciate that there are a lot of poor decisions that could come out being in that state of mind for long. If we shorten its duration, we likely avoid many regrets.

The other amazing thing I discovered about this tool, is that I never had to administer it to the same person twice. It’s as if it inoculated them from panic attacks. One clue as to why that happens appeared when one of my crisis-line clients started laughing after doing the Dive Response for about 20 seconds. She even got a little euphoric. “Oh my god… I love this… I can’t stop doing it.” As she hung up the phone she said, “I can’t wait for my next panic attack.” … and that’s when it dawned on me… Geez… with that attitude you’ll never get a panic attack. That’s how it is with fear. These thoughts and feelings feed back on themselves. It turns into “fear about fear”, and just like any feedback loop, it quickly dysregulates into chain-reactions until all the fissile fuel is expended.

Well now, when fear says, “what will you do when the panic comes?” you’ll have an answer for it. “I’m going to do the Dive Response. Look… my ice cubes are never far from reach.” Once you learn a dozen such tools, you’ll have an answer for so many other threats and accusations, too:

“What will you do if you’re disrespected?”
“I’ll perform Active Love.”

“What will you do if they reject your application?”
“I’ll practice The Mother.”

”What will you do when the stock market tanks.”
”I’ll play the Grateful Flow game.”

”What will you do if you choke during the job interview”
”I’ll summon my shadow with Inner Authority.”

“What will you do if you crash your favorite classic car?”
”I’ll practice Loss Processing… and then I’ll blog about it.”

And when the shit hits the fan… maybe you will use these tools. Maybe you’ll forget. But for today… when the threats are merely whispered, you’ll have an answer. You’ll make a promise to act.

May we all have an answer when panic invites us to relinquish hope. May we remember we’re equipped. May we keep our promise to take action.

Don’t stop,