If It Ain't Broke...

Last month I went to one of my favorite fish camps for a week of very serious fishing. At the end of 28 hours in the boat, my partner, Yvon, and I had caught 447 Northern Pike and Walleye. That's one fish in the boat every 3.75 minutes. Amazing!

The number of fish we caught is, indeed, amazing. Even more extraordinary is that we did it with only two lures. My lure was a red spoon with black dots. Now it is missing a lot of paint. Yvon's lure was a gold spoon with red tips. There's no paint left on his lure and one hook is missing.

One might suggest that both those lures are now broken. And we could repair them until they are perfect and flawless. Today, however, I prefer to think of those two lures as not broken but, instead, excellent. So we're not "fixing" them. They've been retired to the fireplace mantel and we're just being with them in another way. They inspire conversation and whimsical memories. They make me smile. They make me laugh. They make me dance. I'll take those two damaged and excellent lures over a pair of perfect lures any day. To me, they're still beautiful. In fact, I doubt anything we find truly beautiful is perfect.

How about you? Are you striving for perfection or enjoying the excellence in your life?

"Live life fully while you're here. Experience everything. Take care of yourself and your friends. Have fun, be crazy, be weird. Go out and screw up! You're going to anyway, so you might as well enjoy the process. Take the opportunity to learn from your mistakes. Find the cause of your problems and eliminate t. Don't try to be perfect; just be an excellent example of being human." ~Anthony Robbins

"If the world was perfect, it wouldn't be." ~Yogi Berra

No Berries in Michigan--Heading North

I'm stunned that it is already July. It seems I was just picking huckleberries and blueberries around my Michigan home. But that was July 2006. This year I'm going to have to pick my berries in Northern Ontario. The berries around my home have suffered from the drought. We're getting rain now. Quite a bit, actually. But for this year's crop, it's a little too late. So I'll just wander farther north. I know where to go. And rain has been good to some of my favorite spots up there. The water level in my fishing lakes is one to two feet higher this year over last July.

I've said it before, but it's worth repeating. The more time I find for my favorite leisures, the more grounded I become. I'm amazed and impressed with my ability and desire to do little and, consequently, more.

Down to Earth

Often our heads are way too far away from the earth, spending much of our time in thoughts, dreams, visions and plans, intoxicating and diverting us from more present and earthly endeavors. We think too much about other's opinions and seek approval. We think too much about what might be right or wrong for us. From this rootless perspective of our heads, we exaggerate our problems, imagining more and worse than is really there. We become dramatic and obsessive. Our ungrounded minds wander off and create chaos, causing our bodies to feel restless and edgy. We run around in a haphazard way, locking our keys in the car, dialing wrong numbers and leaving our wallets at the last establishment we visited. Our "ungroundedness" disturbs everyone in our path.

The moments of the present, of the earth, the ground, can seem mundane compared to the apparently limitless mind. But being grounded, literally, is what enables us to cast aside our heady visions and embrace our truth at the moment, giving us the freedom we need to be present and more alive.

The earth is there to support us. During these great summer months, find it, touch it and use it. 

Spread out in a freshly mowed lawn

Nap on the pine needle bedding of a pine forest

Wiggle your body through the warm sand of a summer beach

Lay back against a sun-warmed rock

Smear on some cooling creek or river clay

Plop in a mud puddle

Lounge on a bed of moss

“God owns heaven, but He craves the earth.” ~Anne Sexton 

“My soul can find no staircase to Heaven unless it be through Earth's loveliness.” ~Michelangelo Buonarroti 

Grounded

It's the beautiful month of June in Northern Michigan and Northern Ontario. This summer, I'm pretty much splitting my time between the two. The more time I find for my favorite leisures, the more grounded I become. I'm amazed and impressed with my ability and desire to do little and, consequently, more.

Lately I've been appreciating the Earth, literally. The lower I get, the more I like it.

Surprise!

As a coach, it's always gratifying to hear a client enumerate all the things he or she has accomplished. But last month, when one of my clients told me, “I've become accustomed to being surprised,” well, it just made me thrilled and proud. 

Surprises, yes, can be as unwelcome as waking up to three inches of snow in the middle of May or some other hurtful onslaught. But most often, a surprise is an unexpected feeling of wonder and astonishment that has been triggered by something we have come upon suddenly. Sometimes it can be startling, but generally we think of surprise as something good. There may be disbelief, but surprises are usually enveloped in amazement. And what a great way to be, expecting and becoming accustomed to being surprised. Surprises make our life so much more special.

For me, May is the month of surprises. It's morel mushroom season and so I spend even more time in the woods around my home. Any other month of the year, you can find me walking the dogs for an hour or two each day. During May, I clear the calendar a couple of days each week and take to the woods from sunup to sundown. So while racking up all that time and all those miles in the woods, I have plenty of opportunity to be surprised by wildlife, both flora and fauna, rarely seen. And I'm on the hunt for the elusive morel, never knowing when I'm going to walk around the other side of a tree and be surprised by a jumbo white morel. Or a whole patch of them!

There's something instinctual or intuitional about finding morels. Most often, I have a sense, a physical feeling, in my gut and heart, just prior to making the discovery. I notice I slow my pace and breathing and become more alert. I've noticed the same intensity just before a fish hits my lure. I've learned how to detect the oncoming surprises at a cellular level that does not take away from the surprise but, instead, enhances it. 

You can too. We're all capable of having these feelings or “hints” prior to being surprised. Most of us, however, don't notice them because we haven't practiced. When we practice an activity that involves hunting or searching for something, we more frequently have the opportunity to notice what we were feeling and sensing just prior to the discovery. Go on the hunt, I suggest. And become accustomed to being surprised. 

“The moments of happiness we enjoy take us by surprise. It is not that we seize them, but that they seize us.” ~Ashley Montagu 

”Surprise is the greatest gift which life can grant us.” ~Boris Pasternak