There's Time for This

One of the 'less convenient' things about staying over at the bunkie is that I am without my kayak stabilizer.  It's a gizmo attached to the dock that provides a brace that my kayak rests on, and a pole for me to hang onto as I get in and out.  All safe and dignified, like Gramma's who still kayak are supposed to do it.

But no such gizmo over here.  What I do have instead are several natural spaces in the rock right down by the water.  It makes getting in and out poooosssssible.  Sooooorrrt of.  But it's tricky because even the slightest variance in water level changes the entire enterprise.  

Yesterday it was particularly bad.  I positioned the kayak in what had been a perfect spot last time; a space where the water came in around an elongated depression in the rock, making for what had been a perfect launch just the day before.

But this day?  Getting in (the first time) was actually no problem.  But because the water was down ever so slightly, with me in the boat now, I couldn't get over the rocks behind me.  I really pushed.  Tried a few different angles.  Nope.  Not budging.  

And now I'm in an awkward spot to get out.  Made two fumbling, fall-back-into-the-seat-loudly attempts before I accomplished it.  And now I can hear folks chatting on their deck having their morning coffee across the way, which is closer here than it is to the dock next doors.  So, adding to my growing frustration is a bit of embarrassment knowing I am very likely being observed.  This is not a graceful Gramma thing happening here.  I don't particularly want to be the morning's entertainment.

I'm out of the boat now though, and maneuvering the kayak into a different launch point.  This involves carefully repositioning my paddle and my waterproof phone pack so that I can reach everything once I'm in again.   More fumbling, readjusting, reaching and barely reaching for my paddle and phone.  One last adjustment of my position on the kayak seat so that the small of my back is well supported, and I'm off.  

Finally!

And what I notice most about myself in all of this is how annoyed I am with how long all of this takes.  What is normally a two minute process, quick and easy, took the better part of twenty.  More than the worry that I might slip or spill, more than the embarrassment of looking silly in front of cottage neighbours, more than the frustration of having to make several attempts, the thing that annoyed me the most was that is wasted my time.

Bear in mind I am living here by the water right now.  It's summer right now.  Slower pace of life right now.  I have no where I need to be by any set time.  Yes, I am working while here.  Yes, I have a list of things I should accomplished today if I want to stay ahead of deadlines etc.  But when all of this is happening, it's 6:00 in the morning.  The day is new.  I'm on my own schedule.

And maybe that's the problem.  I keep thinking that my schedule, my time, is my own.  Like -- mine.  That somehow I can map out and determine how each section of the day will go.  There's this illusion that I am in control.

I do highly value time and efficiency.  And I suppose that's not all bad.  Keeps things moving forward.  Makes for satisfying days when things go well.  And for the large part of it, it helps make me good at what I do.  But that sense of ownership of time is really, really hard to let go of.

When a little set back like launching the kayak can annoy me this much?  Because it wastes my time?  It was something I wanted to bring up later when I was down on the boat at sunset with my journal.  

It's a fascinating meditation to consider how an eternal God interacts with time.  And even more revealing to consider what He expects of me as I live within the confines of it.  "Someone should write a paper on this," she said, putting it in the file.

For now I'll keep it simple and go with Psalm 90:12, as maybe you were expecting.  I'll re-write it in the singular personal pronoun.

"Teach me to number my days, so that I might apply my heart to wisdom."

Often as not, this text is taught in such as way as to discourage laziness, which I think is a fine application.  In these moments, however, I am wondering if it might also be an exhortation to release my time into the hands of a God who is not constrained by it.  To let go of the illusion that it's my job to squeeze every bit of productivity out of every single moment.  To embrace the spaces not so much as a waste of time, but maybe as time well used to shape my soul.

One last point that I find amusing.  In my struggles yesterday, I actually ended up finding a much better kayak launch point for while I'm here.  So, there's that.

Have a great day, friends.   Spend it well.