The Stories We Tell Through the Life We Live

I tend to view life as a book.
The front cover is the day we are born.
The back cover will be the day we leave this world.
The inside liner is a brief synopsis of who we are and is often written for the world to see through social media sites or a chance meeting with someone. The liner gives others a general idea of the things that are important to others, or the job they do, or the interests that they have, but you don’t really know who the person truly is. The meat of everyone’s life is in the middle.

Our life’s story is most often told by ourselves in the first person through our daily actions and interactions with others. Other people tell our story from their second person perspective and interpretation of those actions and interactions; whether they are witness to our story or a participant in it. As we daily live out the telling of our story, I think it becomes clear that all humans have very specific needs that we desire to have met in order to feel fulfilled.

The first of those needs is love – the giving and receiving.
Another need we have is to feel as though we have somehow made a difference in the lives of those around us – the feeling of significance, as if our existence on this earth was Divinely inspired for a greater good and not merely a chance formation of random matter.
A third need that I feel we inherently have is the need for connection with others. We tweet to reach out; we update our status to let the whole world into our private universe; we pin our interests and ideas. It seems as though our validation or “worthiness”, too often comes in the number of “repins” we receive, the “likes” and comments from our status updates, or the “followers” we have amassed for our tweets.

I began thinking of my own life’s story the other day as it relates to my children.

My oldest daughter has reached the glorious age of 11. It is now that I am beginning to see how her viewpoint of me as a central figure in her life has begun to shift. My ideas or suggestions are now met with eye-rolls instead of thoughtful consideration that my life’s experiences may warrant some degree of wisdom. My requests for compliance over simple household chores is now met with foot stomping, which clearly indicates to me that the “demands” of her life are of greater significance than that of an orderly room. My time with her one-on-one is being replaced with time alone in her room to read, play, or communicate with friends (via text, FaceTime, or on the phone). My reminders of proper conduct are met with the criticism that such lady-like behavior will somehow make her life miserable.

Don’t get me wrong – I remember a time in my life when I viewed my own mother with such disregard. It’s a natural part of the “growing up and growing away” process that all offspring must go through. But in the midst of this, I can’t help but wonder what stories she will tell to her own children about this difficult time of transition in her life. More generally speaking, what story (legacy) will I leave behind for my children to pass along to the generation that they will usher into this world? Will my life’s story leave behind a rare treasure trove of wisdom and guidance that will grant them a bit of safe passage through this thing called “life”?

As we live out the story of our own lives, we must remember one certain thing: none of us are told beforehand how many chapters we will be allowed to write into our book. For some, the story will end suddenly and for others, it will slowly and concisely come to a neat, clean conclusion. Regardless of the length of our life’s book or the chapters therein, if you will, I believe we must live with such purpose, depth, and authenticity that length will not truly matter. Instead, when the book on our life is closed, the readers who witnessed our story will somehow be transformed and will write a piece of our story into their life’s book as well. My own life’s book is not exclusively “me” in nature, but a conglomerate of threads from all the wonderful stories of others’ influence that I have woven into my
story as well. I hope my children will do the same of me as well.

Live well Reader…and write a fabulous, thrilling, page-turning life’s story.

Lessons Learned on Lake Jocassee

 

One would be amazed at the life lessons to be learned after paddling in a kayak on a large lake for six hours. That is exactly what happened this weekend when I packed my kayak in a big rental truck and headed to Ruthie’s house, excited to paddle Lake Jocassee in South Carolina.

 

Six hours of paddling on a lake gives you plenty of time to reflect. Here is what I learned.

 

1. Make sure you have a good map. Ruthie and I stopped at the Jocassee Outfitters Center where she had the foresight to pick up a map of the lake. That map would look like a relic from the Civil War by the time we were finished with it that day. It came out of her bag multiple times as we used it to navigate our journey in search of waterfalls. That got me to thinking about how important it is to have a map in life. We can’t always guarantee that the path we set out on will take us ultimately where we want to go; however, a good map to guide us through life is essential. I can guarantee you that a bird’s eye view of my roadmap of life includes twists, turns, backtracks, detours, and such. Do you have a good road map for life?
2. Equip your journey well. After two years of borrowing and renting other people’s equipment, I finally decided to buy my own kayak and paddle. Ruthie rented her equipment this weekend for our adventure. Over the course of the afternoon, she noticed that her paddle had filled with water and would drench her at each rotation. Her keen inspection revealed a crack in her equipment. While it didn’t hinder her fun time, it became a nuisance to deal with. In life, we need to have the proper equipment to help us along the way. People’s equipment roster may look different from one another. Regardless of the tools you use, equipment inspection and inventory is necessary to make sure you have all you need and that it is in good working condition. Have you gathered the supplies necessary to get through life?
3. Part of any equipment roster should include items that will protect you; hence the need for sunscreen and hats when deciding to paddle across a large man-made lake. Now, Ruthie is red-headed and fair-skinned. She knows how sensitive she can be to the sun and so she packed the appropriate gear for adequate protection. I tan very well, and having a great base tan already, I foolishly decided that such protection was not necessary. My scalp and nose would thank me later. In life, we must be ready to arm our hearts, minds and souls against things that are potentially harmful to us. Are you adequately protected?
4. On the lake, Ruthie and I would paddle to a point on the horizon. This would help us to steer straight and keep our sights on the target destination. I think it is always important to be working toward some goal you wish to achieve. This adds a greater depth or dimension to our life’s purpose. I think of it as “keeping the end in mind”. What are you moving toward?
5. When setting your sights towards a point on the horizon, you must understand that the distance in reaching that destination is often further away than what you may imagine. It is incredible to me the illusion of distance on the open water. The point of trees that you are paddling towards looks closer than the reality. I kept paddling and paddling in the hopes that I was closing in to my target. The same is true in life at times. Those things that we wish would come to pass or achieve don’t always come by quickly, but with great patience and time. Keep paddling.
6. Keep paddling no matter what. When my arms became tired toward the end of our journey, I would just take a break while waiting for Ruthie to catch up to me. While the rest was great, I was often unaware at the subtle movement in the current away from my destination when I became too idle for a long period of time. When that realization finally sunk in, I had to work harder than before to get back on course or not let the distance between Ruthie and I became too great. In life, we will get tired of the battles. We all need to rest. But in our rest, don’t forget to tread water a bit, or keep the paddles moving ever so slightly. You don’t want to get too off course or realize that you have let life pass you by.
7. Companionship is essential. I have kayaked alone and there is nothing more peaceful than the sound of the paddle as it enters the water. There are times for being alone, times when we need to regroup. As we kayaked separately, Ruthie and I spent the majority of our time without talking to one another; but it was comforting to know that there was someone in my immediate proximity. I am learning now, more than ever, how much I enjoy the duality of being alone and the reward of companionship. I enjoy the time I spend by myself, alone. I also enjoy the time I have with my children and friends. Companions allow us to share our journey with others – the good and the bad. It is comforting to know you are not alone.
8. As difficult as the journey may be at times, the beauty of a waterfall is often well worth the toil. It took us a little over two hours to paddle from the boat ramp to the first waterfall at the meeting of Whitewater River and Lake Jocassee. The lake was low and thus the river as well. However, this allowed Ruthie and I the opportunity to hike over grand river boulders to the middle of the falls. It was a rare opportunity and provided us with a great vantage point to take in the view of where we had traveled from; it was well worth the physical toil. Life can be so difficult at times and there are circumstances that don’t always make sense to us while we are experiencing them. However difficult the journey is at times, I believe the reward comes at the end when we can see where we began and truly take in how far we have come.

 

Live well (and don’t forget to paddle).