I Like to Watch

Watching someone surf who really knows how to maneuver themselves around the waves, is like watching a dancer upon the water.  The rhythm of the waves matched with the synchronized movements of the human body can create a beautiful, exciting tango between man and sea.

The other day, we had some great waves which brought the serious surfers out in larger numbers than usual, but this guy really caught my eye.

He was confident and fearless.  He rode with the movement of the waves instead of trying to fight them.

His intensity reminded me that being here, in this moment; as a part of this moment, is what can make us clearer and more successful in all of our endeavors.  There are so many things that can knock us off course causing us to break the rhythm, taking us away from the original moment.

The beat of life can change in an instant, distracting us from what is here and now, forcing us to stumble, to lose balance, to fall.  But if we remain intent on the moment, even with all of the challenges that are trying to break us, we can dance on any wave that comes our way.

And we can make it look good...

It just takes some practice, persistence and a deep desire to stay on course even when the waves of life are determined to bring us down.

I thought about this moment when I was on the phone with my mother yesterday and she was doing her best to sweep me up into the frenzy which is her life.  She knows that there are some things that I will not discuss with her even to the point that I will be forced to end the phone call if she brings them up.  I have made this very clear.  My husband has made this very clear, but still, my mother and her husband cannot seem to help themselves.  Yesterday, I was having a quiet day with Mark and while I was preparing dinner, I decided to make an obligatory call to my mother.  Things are not good for her, but so much of it is her and her husband's fault that I can only offer practical support and not much else.  Still, they try very hard to suck me into their drama, to hurt me, to bring me down into a whirlpool of sadness and then anger.

I am working on(and have been for a very, very long time) remaining on the waves, above the water.  Remaining steadfast in my moments without getting caught in the undertow of the lives of those who surround me.  It's definitely not an easy task.  There are so many times when I stumble and get knocked down, way, way down.  But I am getting better at keeping the beat with a much greater ease.  And that is simply all I can do...All we can do when other folks try to sweep us up into their drama, do a little bit better at deflecting it with each experience.  As my dear friend Kathleen Botsford has reminded me, my mother is one of my greatest teachers.

So hang ten...

What is that other expression?  If it's not one thing, it's your mother...


With so much love to all of you,
Deb

Tools and Treasures

I watched this little boy as he contemplated the waves with calm anticipation, yesterday afternoon.  I know that in some parts of the country children are pulling out their snow jackets and sleds hopeful for a possible snow day, but here in balmy California it is somewhere around eighty-plus degrees with springtime blue skies and the soft fragrances of summer on the breezes.  It was the kind of day that makes you think about flip-flops, ice-cold Coca-Cola and filmy cotton tops.  The beaches were uncrowded with small pockets of people doing what folks do when there is nothing more important to do than heading down to the ocean to appreciate the warmth of it all.  Most people do not brave the water quite yet for it is still downright chilly with winter's recent departure.  But there are the surfers and the paddleboarders and the occasional crazy people who believe it when they say, "Come on in, the water's just fine!"  I prefer to observe.

And so, as I watched this little boy head down towards the water all snug in his wetsuit and flippers, board firmly tethered to his wrist by a cord, I thought about his momma.  I thought about what we do to equip our children as they head out into life without our regular supervision.  I considered the tools with which we supply them.  Wings, flippers, our hearts, tangibly intangible things that can help them to fly or to float, depending upon the conditions.

And there he went, this little boy of ten or eleven years old, fear snuggly zipped into his wetsuit, contained in a place which would only allow his brave to seep out.  I watched as he evaluated the height of the waves coming toward him.

I watched as he allowed them to roll by, raising one flipper at a time in his efforts to venture out into the deep.  I pictured him doing this at the age of two or three, holding tightly onto the hand of his father or mother, tucking away all of the confidence, security and love which was being passed down to him from one to the other.  The tools.  The treasures.

And then the moment came when it was sink or swim.  Board held firmly in his hands, he dove into the waves, head-on.  No looking back for his parents, he had all of the tools that he needed for this challenge.

He made it past one cresting wave after another, heading out and away from the shoreline.  For a long time, I watched him.  There are no lifeguards on the beach at this time of the year.  Only a few other thinly spread out surfers unable to hear if there were any worried cries from the shore coming from someone who no longer swims in the ocean.  But as I raised my hand to shield the sun from shining too brightly in my eyes, this little boy's confidence took hold of my nerves and I once again, became nothing more than just a mere observer witnessing a moment in this little guy's journey, and mine.

I thought about my four Angel Daughters, ages 17, 19, 21 and 23 and how with each step along the way, Mark and I have made sure to provide them each with anything we might anticipate that they might need to fly or float on their journeys.  I considered the relatively short amount of time that we have as children to absorb everything we need in order to zip away the fears we must conquer and survive as young people.  I contemplated my job as a mother and what I might have forgotten to add to my own daughter's tool chests.

But as I kept my eye on this boy, I realized that whatever I have given my girls up until now, is enough.  For I have watched each one of them as they dodged the waves of life so far, and I know that they have a very strong foundation.  I know that it is safe for me to stand back a bit and observe as they each take flight because they have the tools to remain afloat.  The tools and the treasures.

As this little boy continued his search for the perfect wave, I began my walk back down the beach again.  I knew that there was somebody watching out for him at this point and in my silent prayers, I hoped that there would always be other people watching out for my girls when I am not around.  Because as parents, we do that.  Keep our eye on other people's children.  Even when it seems as if they have all of the tools that they need for themselves.  Partially to make sure, but mostly, to reassure ourselves.

The Ripple Effect

The beaches of Southern California have been under the siege of a large winter storm which originated around the island of Tahiti.  Normally, Tahiti is not a place that is on my radar.  When I think about it, I visualize a very far off land surrounded by ocean and lined with white-sandy beaches that are mostly desolate.  But for the past couple of days, Tahiti has been reminding me of the ripple effect which often has broad-reaching implications on our lives.  Implications which we experience, but don't really consider past the first few rings that expand beyond our usual surroundings.  Most of us are familiar with how the ripple effect works.  You drop a rock into a body of water, and the initial ripple then fans outward causing a tiny circle within a larger circle, within a larger circle, within a larger circle, within an even larger circle.  A massive storm that is happening someplace over a far off land in the middle of the Pacific ocean, is now rippling into the waters off of Southern California causing the largest waves this coast has seen in years.  The results have been bigger waves and stronger currents.  Dangerous conditions for all but the most experienced surfers as they clamper down to the water to catch the most challenging waves.
We have also experienced a heat wave combined with extreme humidity, something that Southern California seldom has to put up with.  
There have also been larger crowds at the beaches due to both the heat and the unusual wave conditions.  More ripples crossing over the thousands of nautical miles spanning from Tahiti to California.
And yet, the weather and the powerful surf conditions are only a couple of the ways in which we have been impacted by the Tahitian storm.

Yesterday, as curious beach-goers walked leisurely out on the San Clemente Pier, the waves rose precariously close to the base of it.  People sitting on the edge of the pier found that the waves were actually rising up far enough to tickle their toes.  Shortly after that began happening, a huge beam was dislodged from the pier and went tumbling into the ocean.

It was at that point that the storm from Tahiti which was effecting Southern California began to ripple into even more lives as the pier was shut down until further notice.

Looking out at the vacant pier yesterday afternoon, I was struck by the force that a storm which is nowhere even close to the United States, could have on the lives of those so far away.
And I thought about the first raindrop that might have started all of this.  I thought about that raindrop falling gently into the ocean off of the coast of Tahiti and how the ripples began to circle out, each creating a larger circle.
We are like that.  We create an action, we say something kind or something crass to someone else, and the ripples begin to radiate outward, one at a time.  A single motion that can have an infinite effect.

And like my initial thought about the obscure island of Tahiti being very far from my own radar, we forget how each one of our own actions, however obscure or seemingly insignificant, can create an enormous ripple effect.  Every thought translating into a word.  Every action creating a reaction.  Every kindness reaching out in a way that we could never possibly begin to imagine. 

So I will go into the coming week, the week that my younger brother should have been turning forty-three, and I will think about Tahiti.  I will think about waves and words and kindnesses and, I will think about you.  Each comment, each friendship, each email of support is like the tiny rock which begins the ripple outward creating an effect that can never again be retrieved.  

Peaceful birthday, little brother.  Your life was like that.