The Time I Literally Choked: The Metaphorical Meaning Behind It

It was a two-story apartment. The bottom floor that was once a carport had been transformed into a living room and laundry room, and the upstairs remained from the original studio apartment—the bedroom opened to the tiny kitchen (like, no walls…just laying in bed in your kitchen, really), which you had to walk through to get to the bathroom.

I was in college, living with the girls’ dad (not yet knowing that’s who he would become) not too far from his younger brother, who happened to be over that day. It was mid-day, and they had just made some pork chops. They served mine, which was a hot piece of meat between two slices of bread.

I still remember it like it was yesterday. The bread had become kind of wet and stuck to the pork chop, something I noticed as I took the first bite. I chewed once or twice before the piece of bread got stuck to the roof of my mouth. Keeping my mouth closed, I raised my tongue to scrape it off, starting behind my front teeth and moving it backwards. 

That’s when it happened.

The motion of my tongue pushed the entire portion of partially chewed food into my throat. There I was, sitting on the edge of our bed, realizing that I couldn’t swallow. Then, that I couldn’t gag it up. I felt confused and on alert. I remember placing the plate down next to me to give this my full attention. That’s when I realized couldn’t breathe. I instantly stuck my finger down my throat, and nothing happened. I could feel (like in my body, feel) the food lodged in my throat, but no matter how far I tried pushing my finger down my throat, I could never reach it. That’s when I stood up.

The next realization was the most unexpected feeling of them all, that I couldn’t even make a sound. Not a whimper, not a cry. My boyfriend and his brother were right there in the kitchen on the other side of the room, engaged in a conversation, and I hadn’t made any kind of physical sound, so they were unaware anything was happening. In this moment, my instinct was to alternate between trying to make myself gag and trying to force my finger as far down my throat as I could, neither to any avail. But I kept trying. Because surely there was a way to get this out, I just hadn’t figured it out yet, I thought. 

It was during this silent yet increasingly frantic attempt to save myself that I realized I was really choking, and almost simultaneously, I heard his brother’s voice loudly break away from the distant background noise, “Hey! I think she’s choking!” I hadn’t even thought about them as all this was going on; I was truly so focused on what was happening in this personal space of my own. I looked toward his voice, and he knew. He jumped over the counter and bed without hesitation and rushed behind me to begin the Heimlich maneuver, which he continued until the food finally shot out my mouth.

I was shook. We all were. It’s not everyday someone saves your life. It’s not every day you save someone else’s.

I was not prepared to choke. I didn’t know what to do when you’re choking. I didn’t know there’s a universal hand signal if you’re choking in a place where other people are (grabbing the throat with both hands). I didn’t know that you can use the back of a chair or something comparable to preform the Heimlich on yourself if you’re all alone. These are all things I learned after it happened to me, because it happened to me, but I wasn’t prepared when it happened. We’ll come back to this. 

For the next week, my mouth and throat were incredibly sore. So was the back of my throat; it was covered in scratches from my fingernails, which I wasn’t being mindful of in the moment, of course. My only objective was surviving. And the deep part of my throat from where the food was lodged felt bruised from the inside. Even the base of my sternum and the area around it was tender. Not to mention, I had major anxiety about eating bread and sandwiches, etc. for a few weeks. I actually wouldn’t eat a pork chop (which was one of his faves and a regular on the menu) for several years. This was long before I transitioned to plant based; in fact, this was back when I used to say, “I could never”. LOL—what have we learned about saying ‘never’?

As I sat to write this, I realized that in 5 years of sharing my story and experiences online, I don’t think I’ve ever shared this one. And it’s a pretty significant moment in my life. Prior to this incident, I hadn’t considered what it actually felt like to choke or what I would do if I did. I suppose because it’s one of those things, like so many in life, that we don’t think will happen to us. Not because we’re above it or anything like that, but because you simply don’t think of it at all. Now, when you become a parent, that’s a different story; you are much more mindful of choking as a possibility, but as a 20 year old who didn’t know anyone who had choked to death, it wasn’t something on my radar.

This story literally happened. Like, one minute I was sitting down to have lunch, and several later, someone was preforming a life-saving act on me. But what I want to reflect on today is the metaphorical meaning of this story. This wasn’t even something I was planning on writing about for this post. I had a completely different topic chosen. But right as I began to shift into writing mode, I watched as my daughter ate a strawberry and appeared to be choking on it. She wasn’t, and she never thought she was. But it was in that instant of seeing her making a gag reflex right after taking a bite, which was not accompanied with any sound whatsoever, that instantly brought me back to that moment. 

I leaned in towards her, looking directly at her face, “Are you choking?!”, to which she calmly shook her head and replied no. But she could tell my fight or flight had kicked in, so she started to explain what had happened, likely to reassure me. I took a deep breath and began to relax, hyper aware of my pounding heartbeat, but I became super conscious of my own choking experience. Something I hadn’t thought about in forever all came rushing back to me in the snap of a finger. You have to write about this today. I heard those words in my head. 

So here we are. I wasn’t sure what I was going to write, because this wasn’t something I planned on. Much like choking wasn’t something I planned on. But as I began recalling the events in detail, intentionally allowing myself to close my eyes and go back to this time and place to relive the moment, and giving myself permission to feel the emotions, I realized the purpose of sharing this story is revealing itself as I go. 

First, I’ll touch on the idea above—that I intentionally allowed myself to relive the moment. The mind is an amazing thing. It cannot tell the difference between when something is actually happening or when we are imagining it; well, it can, and it can’t. Let’s focus on the latter. When you’re dreaming, everything feels so real. Hugging an old friend, being chased, losing control of a vehicle you’re driving, flying, falling…surely you’ve experienced something like this in your dreams. You’re in an altered state of consciousness, and you cannot tell the difference between reality and imagination. 

Meditation is also a means to reach an altered state of consciousness. Before I began to write about my experience, which was mostly repressed (unless triggered by something like the strawberry incident with my daughter), I understood that consciously allowing myself to go back to that time and place would be beneficial for the purposes of sharing the story. By first preparing myself for the exercise by using the breath to connect with my body, I began to meditate with the intention of recalling the events as if they were happening in real time. Even though I knew that I wasn’t actually choking as I did the exercise, I could feel my sympathetic nervous system fire up. My heart raced, and I could feel the sensations of the thin slice of sticky bread stuck to the roof of my mouth. I even moved my tongue along the roof of my mouth, just as I had done before. My throat began to feel like there was a lump in it.

Here’s why I’m explaining this: so much of the pain and suffering we feel today is a result of our minds replaying past events with so much detail. So much so that our bodies actually feel like it’s happening again. Maybe it’s a traumatic incident, or maybe it’s a time when you felt really embarrassed or really angry. And when you allow your mind to go down than road, unchecked or unconscious that it’s happening, you will find yourself feeling all kinds of ways: sad, mad, upset, jealous, scared, embarrassed, ashamed, or whatever emotion you associate with the incident you are replaying. 

I did this exercise on purpose, with intention. I knew I was going to relive the moment, and I allowed myself to do it consciously. That didn’t change the fact that it felt real in my body though. My mouth even began to salivate. I could feel my future brother in law’s fists between my ribs and recalled the way it felt as they repeatedly pressed into my body with consistent force. My throat felt scratchy as I remembered my fingernail scraping as I was jamming my finger in. Something that happened so long ago suddenly felt like it had just happened.

Perhaps you have heard of a well-know study done by Dr. Judd Biasiotto at the University of Chicago in the 1980s. He split people into 3 groups and tested how many free throws they could make. The first group practiced making free throws for one hour every day for one month. The second group visualized themselves making free throws but never touched a ball. The third group did nothing. When they retested, the first group improved by 24%, the second by 23%, and the third made no improvements. Note that this study involves deep visualizations, meaning the group who visualized themselves making the shots were instructed to use all their senses, imagining the weight and texture of the ball, the feel of it leaving their hands, the sound of it going through the net, etc.

And look at the results! They improved almost exactly as much as the group who actually practiced. What a great example of the power of visualizations and the mind.

Similarly, this is sometimes what happens unconsciously when we replay those types of undesirable events like I mentioned above. We recount them with all our senses, unaware that we are programming our bodies to react and respond a certain way. In the case of sports performance, for example, using visualizations to enhance performance is great. But replaying with detail that time your partner had an affair or you witnessed a horrific car wreck or you totally bombed your work presentation in front of a room full of coworkers and management is not healthy for your body or your mind. 

That’s not to say it may not creep up on you from time to time. So what can you do? As soon as you’re aware, shift your focus to something else. Do not allow yourself to unconsciously go down the rabbit hole of despair. To be clear, this is not advice for spiritual bypassing or pretending it never happened. But by bringing a sense of awareness to the fact that your mind cannot tell the difference between when it originally happened and when you’re reimagining it in detail, you understand that this isn’t beneficial behavior. And by shining the light of your consciousness on it, you can begin to change the narrative that’s going on. Tell yourself things like: “I am safe now. I am protected now.” Focus on the breath. Perhaps you are imagining this again to help with your healing or to share your experiences, like I did. In which case, do so with intention and conscious reassurance that this happened in the past and you are not in danger today.

Moving on, let’s start from the beginning…the apartment. We did not have one single closet in that apartment. The bathroom wall opposite the bathtub had a rod with a shelf above it. No door. It was just a rod on a wall. And we managed! We lived there in this closet-less apartment for a year. And we had fun and life was good, and I was happy. Interestingly enough, after we got married, we built a house with 9 closets, a pantry, and two attics, plus a garage we never used for parking because it was either a gym or a workshop with a storage loft added, and a storage room, and that still wasn’t enough room. So we had anywhere from 2-3 additional storage units, too. 

And guess what?! We weren’t having fun, and we weren’t happy; instead, we were chasing happiness. And happiness isn’t something you find, it’s something you create. All that stuff—those external conditions—can’t be your source of happiness, joy and fulfillment. I’ve written about this a few times and have an upcoming blog post exclusively on this topic. But to sum it up, buying stuff to fill a void or because you think having it will make you feel better, happier, more successful, is not ever going to work. Sure, it may give you that temporary feeling. But if your joy, happiness and fulfillment are attached to a bag full of conditions, it will always be elusive. 

Embracing a minimalistic lifestyle over the past 5 years has taught me so much. Separating myself from the material world for a bit and veering away from the consumer-driven mindset I once had. The stuff you own owns you, as the saying goes. This doesn’t mean you should aim for owning nothing. I love art and books and meaningful knickknacks. But releasing the need to keep up with the Joneses, have all the latest and greatest, giving into every Instagram ad impulse for some quirky gadget, and instead surrounding yourself only with things that truly bring you joy is definitely a recipe for happiness. The other way simply leaves you feeling like it’s never enough. Less really is more. 

Maybe, as you were reading about the choking experience, you wondered why I didn’t do something to get their attention. As I was writing it, so did I. That’s why the visualization meditation was so important. It helped me to remember what was going through my head at the time. It wasn’t a my-life-flashed-before-my-eyes kind of moment. It was more of a tunnel vision moment. Everything from the background seemed to fade away. I remember the feeling of sitting on the edge of the bed, between the kitchen and the window (there was no table in the small kitchen space). I remember the moment I decided to place the plate beside me; that’s when the outer world seemed to fade away and my focus turned solely on what I was experiencing. 

Perhaps it was ego or my wounded feminine energy (which I wouldn’t learn about for another 15 years) that had me thinking I could handle the situation on my own. Or perhaps I simply didn’t realize the threat was as serious as it was. But in the moment, all of my attention became centered on what had just happened/was happening. I don’t even remember seeing or noticing them, and it wasn’t until I heard, “Hey, I think she’s choking!” that I realized I wasn’t alone. 

I find it interesting to think about all the times in our lives that we try to do things on our own, all the while, we are surrounded by people who love and care about us and are right there, ready and willing to help. Sometimes, all you have to do is ask. 

On that note, let’s explore the idea that I couldn’t make a sound. I believe that’s when it really set in that I was choking. I didn’t know about the chakras at the time, but now that I have spent years studying them, I understand the importance. The throat chakra is located in the throat and represents your voice. Not only your literal voice, as in the one we hear when you talk, but your VOICE in the world. I SPEAK is the affirmation for the throat chakra. When your voice is taken away, you may feel powerless. Again, think beyond the literal meaning; so, beyond laryngitis or having food lodged in your throat. Instead, think of times you haven’t been given a voice. Think of times your voice has been ignored, silenced, or taken away. If this incident happened today, I would have examined the metaphysical meaning, like I explain in detail in my last blog post. And I would find another way to let my voice be heard; just like you can use the universal hand signal if you’re choking on food and cannot make a sound, there is always a way to reclaim your voice. Sometimes all it takes is the knowledge that you can do it, and sometimes, just the courage.

And do you remember what I said earlier, that I wasn’t ‘prepared’ to choke. Fortunately, everything turned out fine, and I lived to tell the story. Chances are, there have been several times in your life when you weren’t prepared for something (a test, an event, an encounter, an impact, etc.), yet everything turned out okay. And equally as likely, there have been several times in your life when, had you been prepared, the outcome would have been drastically different, in your favor or the favor of someone who you were able to help.

While we cannot realistically be prepared for everything that may happen in our lives, we can always strive to do our best to be prepared. Sometimes it takes something happening to us or someone we know, or maybe even seeing or reading about something, to nudge us in the direction of becoming more prepared. That is the kind of preparation that can prevent tragedy or injury or pain. And sometimes, we realize that preparing will benefit us as we look on to something we want or desire, like preparing to run a marathon or preparing a nursery for the arrival of your new baby. That’s a different kind of being prepared than learning how to administer the Heimlich or mouth to mouth. 

Sticking to our basketball theme, I feel a good place to sign off is here, as UCLA coach John Wooden said: Confidence comes from being prepared.