A few years ago I was paddling an unfamiliar series of lakes in order to access Killarney Provincial Park in Northern Ontario. The map said I had to portage around The Plunge Falls. That name alone had me on high alert. Additionally, the day was getting late and a thunderstorm was moving in. The last thing I wanted to do was miss my portage and take “The Plunge.” So I was a bit like a gazelle in lion country, listening for the roar of falls, looking for my portage trail and anxious about the incoming electrical storm at my back. I was using all of my senses, constantly scanning for danger and revising my route-to-safety plan as my environment changed. I had the loan of an island cabin if I could make it there before the storm so I was pushing hard and reluctant to stop and set up camp. But I knew I’d have to get off the water if the lightening started.
After about six hours on the water and the non-stop stresses of the impending falls and storm, I became full of doubt. I doubted I had been right about how long it would take me to paddle to the cabin. I doubted I knew where I was on the map. I doubted my ability to do a solo paddling trip like this with any kind of proficiency, ever. I just totally doubted myself.
I truly thought I would have reached the cabin after six hours of paddling. And yet, I hadn't portaged The Plunge Falls yet. And then, there it was! No, not the falls. I saw the island and the cabin that was my destination for the night. I stared at the map in disbelief! I had taken the Plunge and not even known it!
The Plunge Falls is still on the map I use today. And even though I've paddled this trip several times since, I have yet to encounter those falls. I don't know if this is an error or a mapmaker’s idea of a joke. I just know that I have a new perspective on the old saying, “Take the plunge.”
- Whatever the plunge might be, it is never as bad as we anticipate.
- When you're focused on something as an impending threat, you lose your orientation, even if you have a map.
- The language we use to describe something can create more concern than the thing itself.
I made it to the cabin before the storm. I made it to the cabin without flying over the falls. That night was one of the most beautiful electrical storms I've ever seen. And I got to experience it high and dry with warm food and drink in my belly.
Coach's Challenge:
Here's a bit of a research project for you. I've given you enough hints. Find The Plunge Falls I apparently went over and email your research details to me. Please put "The Plunge Falls" in your email subject line. If you've found the right falls, I'll give you a free coaching session and and a big fat mention.
I Don't Know Why I Swallowed The Fly: My Fly Fishing Rookie Season by Jessica Maxwell was a gift I could not put down once I started reading. While describing her new-found passion for fly fishing, Maxwell also reflects on time, space, nature, her relationship with her father, and the "fishiness" of a stretch of river water. For years I've been telling my friends that fishing is as good as, if not better than, sex. Maxwell gets to this point too.
“Society is like a lawn, where every roughness is smoothed, every bramble eradicated, and where the eye is delighted by the smiling verdure of a velvet surface. He, however, who would study nature in its wildness and variety, must plunge into the forest, must explore the glen, must stem the torrent, and dare the precipice.” ~Washington Irving
“I would feel more optimistic about a bright future for man if he spent less time proving that he can outwit Nature and more time tasting her sweetness and respecting her seniority.” ~Elwyn Brooks White
“Any intelligent fool can make things bigger, more complex, and more violent. It takes a touch of genius -- and a lot of courage -- to move in the opposite direction.” ~Albert Einstein
“I have an existential map; it has 'you are here' written all over it.” ~Steven Wright
The news of late is not where I want to spend my time. Yes, I'm aware that there's a war on that has most of us conflicted, that for many of us it's tax season, and I know what the stock market is doing, or, rather, not doing. But today I noticed the pillie-willies (that's pussy willows for those of you who did not grow up in the Martin household) in my woods are budding. That's where my reality lies. In nature, there's so much to lighten us.
I just got back from another fishing trip in Canada. This was an ice fishing trip as we were far enough north that there were still a couple of feet of snow in the bush and 15 to 20 inches of ice on the lakes. The best part of the trip, as always, is the group of avid fishermen and outrageous wise guys I travel with. We always have fun, mostly laughing at each other's antics. Even though I was kept awake well into the morning of our last night at camp with silly pranks, I was appreciative. It's been awhile since I've had one day string into the next and the next and the next with such nonsense. Time and energy got spent as though there were an endless supply. And keeping me awake well into Sunday morning offered the opportunity to see the northern lights, Aurora Borealis, something I would have otherwise slept through.
Everyone came to camp with their own stresses. Most of us are self-employed professionals and small business owners. So there was a lot involved for each of us to get away. From an outsider's view, watching this group's effort to get ourselves north may make you want to counsel us to give it up. But, we all know the value. We're old hands at expending the effort in order to reap the silliness reward.
So we went. And once at camp, we fell into our familiar routine of banter, laughter and childlike antics. Nothing mattered but a good time and we pursued that with gusto.
I'm back home now and the same pressures to get things done (it's spring you know) are here. One look around the house and the yard and the “shoulds” start to pile up in my brain. But they just don't have the same hold on me. “It will happen, It's not too much, All in good time” I'm delighted to hear myself say.
Some Suggestions:
Lighten Your Mind: Unplug the TV and get outside. One of my clients found that unplugging the TV was not enough. It was just too easy to plug it back in. So he duct taped the plug! That did it. A much better use of that duct tape you may have stocked up on, eh?
Lighten Your Load: What do you have around the house that can go? Just one box will work wonders.
Lighten Your Schedule: Put some time each day on your schedule just for you. And if you're really brave, drop the schedule and trust that it will all get done.
Coach's Challenge:
Right now, this minute, don't wait; call the lightest person in your life. You know who they are. The one person you know who can go from gloom and doom to silliness in less than 10 seconds; the person who literally illuminates your space. Schedule a play date.
“There is always a treat in your future. A walk, a snack, a bone, a nap, a doggie treat from the trash man, a doggie treat from the meter reader, some left-over potato chips from the UPS driver's lunch... Expect abundance.” ~My dog Styx
“If something you rolled in bothers you, shake it off. Then shake it off some more.” ~My dog Jersey
“Fishing is worth any amount of effort and any amount of expense to people who love it, because in the end you get such a large number of dreams per fish.” ~Ian Frazier, “The Fish's Eye”
It's March. Here in Northern Michigan, the days are getting longer with the occasional taste of spring-like weather. And the light of the day is different. It seems to have more color to it. There are two grouse in my front yard. They have emerged from the snow-covered woodpile after three long months. On my daily walks with the dogs, I'm noticing more mouse tracks across the snowy field by my home. The grouse and the mice are certainly vulnerable. Brown bodies on a snowy white background make them much easier prey. Yet they are free.
What is so frightening and at the same time so wonderful about a new beginning? What excites me is the freedom inherent in every new beginning. What scares me is that I am vulnerable. Yet I can't separate the two. If I'm to be free, I'm to be vulnerable. I become energized by the possibility of freedom that a new beginning brings. When I seek to lessen my vulnerability by trying to cover all the contingencies, I actually diminish my freedom and the new beginning becomes too small for me.
Freedom is our original motivator. As a child, I was driven by freedom. Freedom incited learning to crawl, walk and feed myself. Freedom was in my heart when learning to ride my bike, swim, or read a simple book. Without a strong desire to be free, there would have been no sense in placing myself in such vulnerable situations where I’d likely failed numerous times before I succeeded. As a child, any endeavor we attempted was successful if we achieved a little more freedom for our efforts.
Now, as adults, we often give the vulnerability part of a new beginning more importance and weight. Thus we feel the freedom a new beginning will bring and then immediately weigh it against our vulnerability and lose our orientation. In doing this, our new beginning becomes a much smaller endeavor that no longer represents freedom but, instead, security. We diminish our endeavor to the point where it no longer serves us and, in the process, lose a little more freedom.
Our lives and work must envelop freedom or they come down to nothing more than a means of providing.
"People frequently say to me you're such a free spirit! Aren't spirits made to be free? We are all free spirits. We must choose to practice freedom." ~Sark
"We must determine whether we really want freedom--whether we are willing to dare the perils of...rebirth... For we never take a step forward without surrendering something that we may have held dear, without dying to that which has been." ~Virginia Hanson
"Ultimately we know deeply that the other side of fear is a freedom." ~Marilyn Ferguson
"When we were children, we used to think that when we were grown-up we would no longer be vulnerable. But to grow up is to accept vulnerability... To be alive is to be vulnerable." ~Madeleine L'Engle, "Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art"
My dad always ordered his eggs sunny side up. On those spring days when he would take me to the woods mushrooming, we would stop at our usual country restaurant where he would proclaim, when asked how he wanted his eggs, “Sunny Side Up!” In my childhood innocence, I was sure he was making a statement, just for me, about our day together. It either never occurred to me or I suppressed understanding that sunny side up really was a way to prepare eggs. Once we were in the woods, he would have me go through this routine of removing my “normal eyes” and pulling my “mushroom eyes” out of my pocket and installing them for the task ahead. Always, before we left the house he'd ask, “Do you have your mushroom eyes?” This little ritual eliminated any “hoping” we'd find mushrooms. I just "knew" we would. With our mushroom eyes in, it was a done deal. All that was left to do was fill our bags.
Lately I've been hearing the word “hope” a lot. But every time someone expresses a hope to me, they seem to be caught up in worry or concern.
My dictionary defines “hope” as:
“the feeling that what is wanted can be had or events will turn out for the best. To look forward with desire and reasonable confidence.”
Now that seems pretty optimistic. However all but one of the examples in my dictionary were pretty disheartening. As though hope is a last resort. Here are the examples my dictionary used for hope:
“to give up hope”
“there is little or no hope of his recovery”
“the medicine was her last hope”
“her forgiveness is my constant hope”
“I hope that my work will be satisfactory”
“we are hoping against hope for a change in her condition”
Thinking that the definition of hope seemed so optimistic while the examples seemed so dire, I looked up "optimism."
“A disposition or tendency to look on the more favorable side of events or conditions and to expect the most favorable outcome.”
Well that got me thinking about the difference between “desire and reasonable confidence” as in hope, and “expect the most favorable outcome” as in optimism. So here are some of the differences between being hopeful and optimistic that are rattling around in my brain.
When I hope, I am often focusing on what I don't want to happen. My hope is used as a tool to put my fear at bay. I am trying to suppress a potential negative outcome with my hope. So hope becomes merely my obsession with beating the odds.
When I am optimistic, I skip right over the negativism and expect the most favorable outcome. With optimism, that element of worry contained in my hope is not present.
Hope feels passive. My optimism does not deny struggle or loss but encourages me to embrace them and find the opportunities within. With optimism, I become an active participant in what goes on around me, both good and bad, because to remain the optimist I must dissect even the regrettable condition and find that in its parts there are some opportunities to be seized. I can do something.
But here's the big one for me. Hope asks me to focus on the future. It makes me wait. And when I'm focused on the future, I'm not fully present. When I'm optimistic I stay present. And in the present I can be responsible and responsive. I stay mindful of what I can do and who I am right now. And that's where I'm most creative.
So for me the difference seems to all boil down to this. It's like the third day of rain on an extended camping trip. I can sit in my tent and wait and hope for sun or I can grab my shampoo and treat my optimistic self to a shower. By the way, dad always said “mushroom eyes” work better in the rain.
"If the Sun and Moon should doubt,
They'd immediately go out." ~William Blake
"Barn's burnt down...now I can see the moon." ~Masahide
I'm late. I tried to post this note on the first Monday of the month. But this month that Monday happened to fall on my birthday. My 50th to boot! So pardon the delay. I promised the dogs and myself a walk in the woods along Hopkins Creek. And after my friend Corey brought her rowdy crew over for a little birthday celebration, that's exactly what we did. I reflected a lot and “Time” kept coming up for me. No surprise there, I suppose. A “milestone” birthday and a walk in the woods will do that to you.
One of the wonderful things about our retreat in the Virgin Islands last November was the pace of island life. Schedules were very loose. Things started and ended on time only if you were willing to give up your understanding of what “on time” meant. I noticed this first when I landed in San Juan and I needed to catch my “puddle jumper” flight to St. Thomas. That flight was scheduled for 4:30. We finally took off about 6:00. There were no emergencies, no equipment failures. It was just that 4:30 apparently meant any time between 5:00 and 6:00. What surprised me was that it didn't take me long to embrace “island time.” It was much more difficult to come back to schedules.
Michael Flaherty, author of “A Watched Pot: How We Experience Time” says we're pretty good at speeding up time. What we're not so good at, he says, is slowing down time. This, because it requires some self-indulgence. He says other cultures and societies, like the Virgin Islands I'm sure, are much better at this. So I'm discovering that with just a little self-indulgence, the emphasis shifts from time to timelessness. Nagging feelings of having to get somewhere or accomplish something simply disappear.
Todd Rakoff, Author of "A Time for Every Purpose: Law and The Balance of Time" distinguishes between two kinds of time, natural time and social time. Natural time he defines as events like the sun setting and rising or the moon going through a complete phase from new moon to full moon. Social time he says is events like a work week, a lunch hour, family dinner hour, etc. Rakoff says that societies shape time so they can coordinate what people do. And so for most of us who say, “There's just not enough time,” our problem is probably less about a lack of time and more about coordination of the time we have. For example, you may easily have an hour in your day to eat dinner with your family. This is probably also true for all your family members. A problem only arises when an attempt is made to find that one hour that works for everyone (coordination). So “having enough time” is really a collective social problem, not a personal problem. This insight may not be a solution, but it certainly is helpful for me to know it's not personal!
Most of you know I don't make New Year's resolutions. But I'm willing to try a “half-century” one. I'm stepping into timelessness at least once each day! Here are the reminders that we (the dogs and I) came up with on our walk.
- Doing nothing or something I love, even if it benefits no one but me, is productive.
- Natural time rules! Sunrises, sunsets, moon phases, seasons and my body's urge to rest or for nutrition will get more of my attention.
- Take a look at each event and determine if it really is necessary to coordinate others and their time. If so, do it with minimum impact. If not, let it go!
My dogs are so smart, don't you think!?
"There is no time like the pleasant." ~George Bergman
"What is this life if, so full of care, We have no time to stand and stare." ~W. H. Davies
"Time--our youth--it never really goes, does it? It is all held in our minds." ~Helen Hoover Santmyer
"We need time to dream, time to remember, and time to reach the infinite. Time to be." ~Gladys Taber
"May you stay forever young," ~Bob Dylan
