Reflections from the Red Kayak
I love paddling with a purpose. Sometimes, the purpose is simply to head out onto the water and enjoy the beauty of nature. Other times, I like the time on the water to have more depth and meaning.
Today I am kayaking with my friend, Annie, on the small lakes of the Bittersweet Wild Lakes State Natural Area. The four lakes collectively total a mere 218 acres with short portages in between each. Destined to be a day of adventure!
I recently read a book titled, Bittersweet by Susan Cain, which is based on the premise that “light and dark, birth and death, bitter and sweet, are forever paired.” In it, she asks these questions, “What are you longing for? What is the thing you long for most, your unique imprint, singular mission, wordless calling?”
I think about these thoughts from her book as I prepare for the day’s paddle, and I wonder how Annie and I could perhaps get a little closer to identifying our longings. What do we want in and out of our lives so that we can flow more freely to what’s next for each of us?
As we drive to our put-in off the highway down a bumpy road tucked back in the woods, I propose to Annie that on the way out through the four lakes, we take a rock to drop in the water and let go of things blocking our way, and on the way back, we drop twigs in the water that will float and flow, representing our new openings. She is up for the idea and we begin our day’s adventure.
We portage our boats a fair distance from her truck to Prong Lake, our first one, a sweet 31 acre gem. The morning sunlight streams in through the openings in the tall pines.
Into this lake, as I let go of my rock, I let go of my future, not that I don’t want to have a future, but letting go of thinking too much about the future. I purposely drop the rock by these lily pads. Tethered to the bottom of the lake, they stay in the present moment. So should I.
Our next portage takes us to Bittersweet Lake, the largest of this quadruplet at 104 acres. The wider expanse of this lake gets me thinking about my bigger writing project, my next book, Paddlin’ with Thoreau, and how the book has blossomed beautifully into a much larger vision, which has now been in formation for almost three years. I often feel so much self-imposed pressure to finish it, which blocks the flow of my writing. So in a smaller cove of this lake, I find an area that is surrounded by what looks like a meadow amidst the pines and I drop my rock, the pressure of completion, there. The meadow reminds me of the Great Meadow on the Sudbury River where Thoreau lived.
I feel Thoreau continues to be with me, as we continue through our shortest portage to 41-acre Smith Lake. I just love these portage distance signs, which measure our carrying distance in feet and in rods. In Thoreau’s time, everything was measured in rods, 16.5 rods to every foot. A poignant sign for me!
Into Smith Lake I drop a rock for my Mom. Today is her 93rd birthday and throughout her life, she has accumulated regrets that she struggles to release. We all have some things that we feel apologetic about, or situations we wish we had handled differently. I firmly believe that we do the best we can at the time with what we know. I put her rock on a lily pad and watch it gently sink to the bottom. Happy Birthday, Mom! A time of new beginning for you to let it all go.
Portage again, 637 feet, 38.6 rods – clomp, clomp back and forth with our boats. Our final lake on the journey out, is Oberlin, a longer narrower lake that seems bigger than its 42 acres. I think this one is my favorite, maybe because we see the loon here or maybe, as I told Annie, I feel as though we portaged our way to Canada. The feeling on this lake is more remote, wilder and more primitive.
I take a long hard look at the speckled rock I hold in my hand and feel as though the speckles represent all the collective grief I seem to hold. I tend to absorb the pain of so many disturbing local and world events and hold the sadness I feel for those immediately affected by these happenings. Into this lake I release this collective grief I am experiencing and just as I did, the loon wailed, affirming it all.
On the way back, we now release our floating sticks representing the spaces we’ve opened from the things we let go. Portage – 637 feet, 38.6 rods – clomp, clomp. On Smith Lake I release my floating stick in a calm area, reminding me to move calmly into the future. Portage – 330 feet, 20 rods – clomp, clomp. On Bittersweet, I do the opposite and send my stick floating into the moving ripples on the lake. This is my Thoreau stick, helping me to keep my thoughts about the next book flowing. Portage – 440 feet, 26.6 rods- clomp, clomp. Finally, on Prong, I purposely choose a stick with remnants of a spider web and other bits of bark stuck to it. All the residue that clings when I hold on to the collective grief. I gently put that stick near our portage out, so that as I exited, all that collective “stuff” would leave me as well.
How did I feel after this ritual of the day? Gratified. Grateful that I took some steps to “creating myself” as Thoreau’s opening quote states. Knowing that should these things re-surface, and certainly they will, that I have processed them in a different way. To acknowledge the sense of longing within me to continue to grow and find purpose. All during a beautiful adventure paddling on four lakes and clomping 10,000 steps, 604.6 rods, on a clear, sunny day in the peaceful haven of nature.
Bittersweet – let go and let flow. Forever paired.
What is bittersweet in your life right now and what are you longing for?
What is the thing you long for most, your unique imprint, singular mission, wordless calling?
What needs to go and what is yearning to flow?
Can you think of a ritual to “create yourself” in a new and affirming way?
www.redkayak.net
Mar
Super writing keep this going very nice.
wendorfs
Love, love, love it Mar. Have been wanting to read Susan Cain’s book, and now you’ve really piqued my curiosity, as my companion these days is making peace with impermanence . . .
Mary Ann
Your writings always make me feel calm yet inspiring. I just love how you find ways to let go of issues while continuing to renew your soul. Paddling on the water in nature suits you very well. Keep writing girl, you are very good! Keep those awesome thoughts coming! Looking forward to more of your writings. Miss you Mar