Mental Mishaps: Lessons on the Lake

Last weekend I had one of those moments: do or die, fight or give up - make it or be forever lost.

The day started out beautiful. The third day of a holiday weekend, I found myself itching to get out of the house and "do" something. Two days of mulling around was enough. My resting self had peaked and I was ready to tackle something. I called  neighbor, on a whim, and asked her if she knew of any local places that we could go kayaking or canoeing. Sounded like a nice idea. And as luck would have it, a local state park by my house was open and rented such things for $5 an hour. So, my husband, step-daughter and I packed a lunch and headed to the park.

We sat on the bench and ate our lunch overlooking the lake and the many dragonflies that inhabited it. I looked on as people leisurely paddled in singles or doubles around. The lake extended pretty far and some folks had ventured to the far end while others had simply floated near the launching area, paddling a little, looking at frogs, and talking. The later was the condition that I was looking for. I was not out to set any kayaking records - I just wanted to get outside into nature and enjoy myself.

Lunch eaten, we headed over, rented our kayaks and launched into the lake. We opted for our own kayaks rather than buddying up. This seemed like the best idea, especially since the lake had suddenly become busy and double boats were at a high demand.

I did not notice any tailwind as we headed out. My stepdaughter, the athlete, was far ahead, paddling continually and moving towards the far end. My husband was in tow. I guess that meant we were moving out...I should have known better. But as we moved further away from the dock, the murk, lilies and pond-scum became thicker and more dense to paddle through. Waving some off my paddle nearly through me into the water, so I realized quickly that I had to work through it and not fight it...allow some pond scum here and there. All in all, the ride out to the farther end was nice and went smoothly.

I gazed back and realized, "wow, we really are far out here." My step-daughter had just turned and started heading back, husband following. I turned as well. But I didn't want to head straight back. The constantly paddling out there had worked up some sweat and muscle in my arms and I felt a slight twinge in my lower back starting to creep up. No, what I really wanted to do was float there for a while. I guess I could have, but my family was moving ahead of me fast and furiously and I could either stay out on the lake by myself or start paddling back. So I did...paddle back, that is.

And that is when the gust force winds seemed to kick up. Had they been there on the way out? Cause I thought I was paddling pretty hard! Rapidly my kayak started to push backwards, turn, and if I didn't catch myself, probably would have been floating backwards, backwards! My sudden thought was, "crap!" Only it was another more colorful word that I used.

I yelled to my husband, but he was far ahead of me and paddling fast. My arms were tired, the sun was hot and I realized that it was time to just push through - something I am not a fan of doing, to be honest. It seemed like the harder I paddled, the more furious the wind blew into me. If I stopped just for a moment to rest, the boat came to an immediate stop and began to move backwards. "Crap!"

I paddled harder and harder against the wind, arms screaming, back aching, and mind beginning to wonder why I hadn't just stayed on my comfy patio furniture reading a yoga book. I had to stop, I just had to. The wind immediately began to me push backwards. The dock seemed miles away...as did my family. My bottom lip started to tremble and I felt tears welling up in my eyes. My mind kicked in, "You can't do it. You are too tired. You have to go to the side, pull the kayak out of the water and walk all the way back through the woods. You are too tired. This pond-scum seaweed stuff is slowing you down. You do not have enough strength. Your back is hurting. You suck." It went on and on.

I noticed my husband look back and see that I was pretty far away. He stopped, seeming to wait for me. Why didn't he look like he was being pushed backwards by the hurricane winds? My ego, the same one that just told me that I couldn't do it, chimed back in, "Go now. Let him see that you can do it. You can't let him see that you are weak."

I began paddling again, with a smile on my face. I was reminded of the story of the duck: zen-like on top, but paddling like heck underneath. That was me. It was all show. I was really dying out there. My mind was laying into me and I was ready to wave the white flag. I stopped again. I had to. I wanted to cry - bad thoughts poured back in again. This struggle went on and on and on until I caught myself in the midst of it. I realized what was happening. I had that "epiphany."

I sat up straighter in my kayak, and pulled my lower belly in. I began breathing deeply through my nose and paddled smoothly with my breath. By only looking right ahead of me instead of further away, I soon found paths through the pond-scum and into smoother, more clear water and then the kayak opened up. The wind was present, for sure, but suddenly the effort was less. My arms were still sore - as was my back, but slow and steady was winning the race. And before I knew it, I was back close to the dock with my family, awaiting to pull in.

I got out and smiled at my family and to myself. I didn't give up. I really wanted to, but I had made it back. That one hour seemed like 10 minutes - or 20 hours, depending on how I think about it. My mind surely felt like it was 10 minutes, but my body would have sworn I was working for 20 hours.

I was reminded how easy it is to fall prey to the ego and let the mind pull you down, making life more challenging than it needs to be. I recalled a lecture with a visiting yogi who told the crowd at Princeton University some years ago that people make up all their problems. Sure, I do it. I am human. Sometimes I figure this out sooner rather than later and other times I need to learn some other lesson first. I learned many lessons on the lake that day, went home and ate a huge piece of ice cream cake from Carvel that I found sitting in the freezer since Father's Day.

Power Kayaking.
Ice Cream Cake.
Life is good.