Lessons from Lady Bird Lake

Sunrise is coming a little later these days. My 6:30 arrival on the dock only prompted me to have to wait 15 minutes for sunrise to launch. But, having a chance to stretch wasn't a bad thing. The water was calm this morning, and the heat wasn't scorching. I felt good - rowing a long and low piece, methodically passing the more senior club members. After I turned around near the damn, I headed East on the lake back towards the dock. Near the rocks that jut out over the lake on the south shore, I came upon a woman whom I had already passed once on a previous lap. She wasn't exactly making waves. But when I passed her I heard voices. I slowed and turned my head to see who she might possibly be talking to. Nope, no one there. But still - the conversational tone. She was talking on her cell phone. In a single. I proceeded to feel completely superior, "Hasn't she thought about her phone sinking to the bottom of the lake if she flips?" "What call could possibly be so important that she needs to bring her phone in the boat with her?" "Clearly, she's not taking this very seriously." Feeling smug and strong, I went on my merry way.

After about 45 minutes of steady state. I decided I'd go a little longer than normal and extend my loop up to the Lamar bridge. I also decided to throw in a few higher rate & pressure pieces at the end of the workout. So I set my watch for 1' on 1'. It was nothing noteworthy, but I was feeling good. I got to the last minute of full pressure when I approached the point where Barton Creek meets Lady Bird Lake. I had less than 10 strokes to go. A kayaker whistled at me to make sure I didn't hit him, and I smugly dogged his annoying obstruction. All of a sudden I felt my starboard oar catch under the water. It did not come up. At all. As it turns out, there's a huge overgrowth of some kind of algea in the lake this summer. (Supposedly that's good? Indicates that the lake is healthy? I speak with no authority on this matter.) Well, as you might be guessing, I flipped. Once the starboard oar was under, my balance was shot - and the rest was a slow motion dive into the seaweedy mess. Once I got over the shock of being soaked, I began laughing hysterically. Enter kayaker and random wakeboarder - who both said really helpful things like, "Wow, how are you going to get back in?" and "That looks difficult." At this point I began to right the boat, level the oars, and ungracefully hoist myself back into the waterlogged shell. At some point, two of the more talented elderly scullers approached the scene. Offering no advice or support, they stared with what I can only imagine was great amusement. However, I did appreciate their round of applause once I was back in the boat.

It's at least four or five years since I've flipped a single. It was certainly a lesson in modesty. Maybe I won't be so smug...tomorrow. It's a good thing I didn't bring my cell phone.

e.e. cummings

Each of us has visual cues in our variety of daily contexts. Sometimes it is to remind us of a place we have been, or maybe a place we hope to go, or people we love. One of the ones that I purposefully put right next to my work computer is a weekly calendar with artwork from one of my favorite artists, John August Swanson. His images are sometimes silly, sometimes holy, and always beautiful.

This morning, I was delighted to find that this week's image is a visual narrative of one of my favorite prayers by e.e. cummings. As a child, I grew up singing this poem in it's shortened song version at summer camp. It still brings me joy to think about jumping around in circles, and pointing to the infinite, natural beauty in the sky with my friends.

Whether, visual, spiritual, or lyric - I hope it is a cue for your day too!

i thank you god for this most amazing

i thank You God for most this amazing day:

for the leaping greenly spirits of trees

and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything

wich is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,

and this is the sun's birthday; this is the birth

day of life and love and wings: and of the gay

great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing

breathing any-lifted from the no

of all nothing-human merely being

doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and

now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

"Festival of Lights"

(Not the illustration of cumming's poem, which I could not find on-line. But still one of my favorites - so much so that it's framed in my office.)

Real

Dear Summer 2010,

It's been real. Real busy. Real intense. Real eye-opening. Real note-worthy.

Two weddings, an ordination, a conference, three mission trips, the Bishop's Bluegrass festival, and a few days on mom and dad's couch. I am walking away having learned a great deal about myself. I've even managed to walk away with mental snapshots of several mountaintop experiences that I wouldn't trade for anything in the world. I could go on and on about the depth of riches. Without a doubt, the most tremendous experience was time well spent with good people. Some of those people I have known nearly my whole life. Some I am still getting to know. Others I did not know until this summer. Without a doubt, each one of them are beloved. From different countries, through languages foreign to me, on streets I'd never traveled and in places where I've seen the seasons change throughout the years, through dances and lyrics and poetry all their own - each one of them offered me the same authentic gift. The freedom to be who I am, wherever I am, and still be loved. It is a gift beyond measure.

All in a few short months. I am in awe, still. Real sure this summer won't soon be forgotten.

So there it is. My understated and vastly inadequate summary of the last three months. And yet, I'm not sure I could say it any more pointedly. Things are ending and things are beginning again. My favorite day of the year is just around the corner - back to school shopping! Is there anything that beats wandering the aisles of meticulously organized pens, pencils, folders, and organizers? Just saying it out loud makes me want to be more organized! And if you know me well, you know that there's nary an inkling that makes my heart pitter faster. For the second time in my life (that I can remember) I will not be partaking in this most joyous of holidays. So kids, do me proud! Parents, do your children justice. Behind all of the plastic wrap and lengthy receipts is the hope of something much larger. The expectation of who your children will become, of what they can achieve - which won't be sent home in a report card. It is all about the relationships with people who make us who we are. While I won't be indulging in school supplies this year, rest assured that I have made a phone order with my alma mater and have the latest faculty publications showing up at my door step next week. I will continue to pretend that I am a student until the end of time. Not because I was good at it. But because I loved the quest - to know and to ask and to discover.

Because in the end that's what this great journey is all about, right? Discovering the hope in the promise of who we can become.

Summer 2010: check!