Learning to Hove To: What to Do When It’s All Too Much

“It’s so heavy . . . I feel scared. . . What just happened?” Friends, family, and clients echoed these words the past several weeks. Thousands of acres burned, homes and businesses lost, souls lost in multiple aircraft accidents and a slew of executive orders have created chaos and fear. Too much.

Our beautiful brains can only process a limited amount of information, particularly when they detect a threat. Our brains have multiple threat responses. If an angry tiger starts chasing me, I try to run away – the flee response. If I cannot outrun it, I try to fight it – the fight response. If I cannot do either, I freeze and hope it doesn’t see me- the freeze response. Lastly, if none of these options work, I try befriending the tiger. I feed it my lunch in the hope it sees me as useful and will not eat me – the fawn response. When it’s all too much, our brains pick one of these options and will switch when that option fails. Currently, I notice a lot of people in a freeze response.

Freezing can involve numbing or detachment, inability to move or speak, zoning out, breathing shallowly, feeling clumsy, difficulty focusing/making decisions, lacking facial expression, and/or a heightened awareness of your surroundings. Freezing can look like spending hours mindlessly watching Netflix or staring at your computer screen and making no progress. Have you experienced a freeze response the past two weeks?

In sailing, we employ a maneuver when it’s all too much- the hove to. Let me illustrate. A few months ago, my partner and I raced our Lido 14 in high winds. For those unfamiliar with a Lido, it’s a 14-foot-long dinghy sailboat. The two-person crew serves as the ballast (i.e., the weight that keeps the boat from tipping over). Keelboats typically have lead or cast iron ballasts 20 to 50% of the boat’s total weight. Hence, when they get hit by a gust of wind, they tip and pop back up like a weeble-wobble toy. Not so in a Lido.

Our Lido approached the start line, and the wind whipped the signal flags on the race committee boat. I saw white caps forming on the bay. Not good. We took off and soared through the upwind leg. We kept our feet tucked tight under our hiking strap and leaned our bodies over the side of the boat to keep it level. We kept up with the faster sailors in our fleet. Woohoo! . . . Until the downwind leg where we experienced an accidental gybe. Our boat’s boom swung unexpectedly from one side to the other. Fortunately, it did not hit our heads. However, it caused our boat to tip 90 degrees and sent us scrambling to the uplifted side. We fought to right our Lido. Amazingly, we did not tip over; however, our cockpit filled with water.

I started bailing immediately (note: always have a bailer on a dinghy sailboat) as my partner inched our water-slogged vessel towards the finish line. The accidental gybe left us wet and startled. Once we safely crossed the finish line, my partner announced, “Get ready. I’m going to hove to.” He turned the boat so the forces on the sails counteracted each other and placed it at a standstill. Then, he locked the rudder in place to keep the boat from moving forward. He said, “Ok, let’s take a moment to settle back in.” Then, I exhaled.

Sailors use this maneuver when they need to rest, wait for better conditions, or make minor repairs (or bailing out gallons of water!) However, it’s not equivalent to anchoring which keeps the boat secured. A boat in the hove-to position will slowly drift sideways. Drifting is not a problem unless you’re about to encounter another object. Hence, you cannot hove to forever.

If you feel pelted by the storm of the wildfires and inauguration, I encourage you to hove to. Hove to may look like:

  1. Unplugging from news or social media.
  2. Going on a walk in nature.
  3. Make yourself a cup of tea.
  4. Sleeping in.
  5. Talking to a loved one.
  6. Petting your cat, dog, or iguana.
  7. Exercising (pro tip: moving your body vigorously tricks the threat system into thinking you outran the tiger).
  8. Listening to music.
  9. Baking chocolate chip cookies.
  10. Watching a YouTube video of Poppy the baby pygmy hippo. (=

Remember, the hove to is a temporary maneuver. Once you’ve settled back in, you have to determine your plan to keep sailing. For me, it meant attending a psychological first aid training, adding my name to directories of therapists offering pro bono/low-fee services to fire survivors, and educating myself about resources for those adversely impacted by the recent executive orders. What is your plan?

If you’re feeling stuck and cannot move into or out of a hove to. I recommend reaching out to a friend, family member, or therapist for support. If you’re experiencing a mental health crisis, please visit https://988lifeline.org/ or go to your nearest emergency room.