With or Without You (A Song to my Phone)

My phone is on the fritz and I'm trying to decide if it matters.

I think actually there might be a goodness in the absence of the gizmos. Realizing how many 'things' I use it for. If Ken and I can't sort it out on our own, it may mean a trip into town, and that can't happen until Tuesday.

Hmm....

This morning's paddle around the island begged a thousand pictures. The sky was vibrantly chasing away last night's storm over glass-flat water reflecting abundant cardinal flowers splashing red on the mirror.

No pictures taken.

Instead, on this loveliest of Saturday mornings, I offer a shot taken the other day. And it's okay.

No texts or calls until further notice, folks.
Not ignoring you.
Just figuring things out.
And I think there might be a goodness to it.

Taking Out the Trash - Or - What We're Doing When We're Not Having Fun

 

Serene sunrises on flat water make for much better pictures than bins loaded and ready for the dump. Therefore, it might be understandable, if one was only going by the photos I post, to assume that's the total cottage vibe these days.

It's not.

Right there in that first picture is 420 lbs of construction garbage, pressure treated wood, siding edges, and a few leftover asphalt shingles for good measure.

And today we took out the trash.

That's no small deal when you're on an island. The process first consists of loading up the bins from the unsightly pile beside the bunkie. That took us two separate work times on two separate weather-friendly days. Then we have to heave these things over uneven rocks and load them onto the boat. That was another day itself.

Today, another weather-friendly day, we drove this load into the marina, offloaded into the van, then heaved it all into the assigned bin at the dump. That's where we got it weighed, so that's how come I know how much it was.

While we have enthusiastic helpers for dump runs at other times of the season, when it's just the two of us, we are finding it wiser to spread the task out like that.

Just a bit of math. Each bin was about 70 lbs.

That's a lot of trash. And what with the ride out to the marina and back, plus the driving time to the dump itself, it took the whole morning.

Since the morning is my best work time, Ken mentioned that he was sorry it took so long. But I was glad to get it done. This was a very needed item to check off the list for this week. And the place looks so much better for it!

And I think it's like that sometimes. Sometimes what my deeper self needs is quiet contemplation on flat water. Restful, no pressure, just all beautiful and calm.

But sometimes what my deeper self needs is a good taking out of the trash. Honest confession, letting the Spirit and Scripture hold me accountable for the person I say I want to be. And that's harder, but necessary work.

"Search me, O God,
and know my heart,
test me,
and see if there be
any trash that needs hauling away."
Psalm 139:23-24 (Cottage Reno Version)

Each year I read through my journal from the last summer until this.
That's what this is about, mostly.

Avoiding the dangers of living an unexamined life.
The harder work of spiritual formation.
But badly needed.
And I'm so much better for it.

Also, in unrelated news....

I must make the grand announcement that this morning I finally achieved my goal of making it all the way around the island!!! Since I did this 37 times last year, you'd think it wouldn't be such a big deal. But my kayaking was seriously disrupted by recovering from surgery, so today did actually feel like a big ta da moment. Thanks to cousin Janet for accompanying me. It was only a tad breezy in the one spot, a a little dicey in the shallows at one point since the water's so low.

Yay for early morning paddles with ginger snap cookies!

Heading into the last long weekend of the summer season.
Looks like a mix of weather.
Whatever your vibe, I hope the weekend is a great one!!!

When You're Not Lost But You Might Be

 

Got out in the kayak this morning and did 4.69 km, according to my little watch gizmo. Two things about that. One is that my whole route around the island is just over 5 km, so I'm working towards that goal. I think maybe tomorrow I could go all the way around?

The other is that I actually went a bit further than I intended because at one point I got disoriented. Not lost, exactly. I've been exploring other shorter routes in my quest to build up my abdominal stamina, and this morning I ventured out and around a different island I'd never navigated before. It looked exactly farther enough away to push me just a little, but also close enough to home for me to easily make my way back. No problem.

But islands can look a very different shape from one side of them to the other. And the cottage properties, the docks and such, are not familiar to me, so no reference points there. The rising sun is a pretty good orientation, and I knew the general direction I should be heading. But I caught myself in a dead end that I expected to open up to where I wanted to be. It didn't.

You need to know that a fear I've had to overcome in my Georgian Bay life is getting lost in the array of islands that, when you aren't familiar with them, for all intents and purposes, look exactly the same. Water, rocks, trees. I don't think island dwellers who were brought here as babies have this fear. It's just instinctive for them. But for me, arriving at the post-instinct-absorbing age of 16 years, it was a thing.

Learning to get from the marina to our cottage all on my own (thank you MIL Mary B for insisting) really pushed me past that fear, and it's been a long time now since I've even thought about it.

But this morning there was a flicker. A moment of wondering if I really got lost, how would I make it back home?

Writing now from the comfort of my lounge chair on the deck, all is good. I was just fine. Had the presence of mind just to turn around and reroute myself until, oh yes, there is it, I found the other side of that island and headed for home all la-dee-da-nothing's-happening-here-that's-exactly-where-I-meant-to-go. And I had the guts to do it, and by this I'm talking again about my abdominal core (yes, still talking about that eight weeks out!), and not the risk factor involved.

Truth is, I take my phone with me. And I know Ken would, in a heartbeat, come find me (with those island baby instincts of his) with the Big Boat and bring me home.

And yes, there's a life lesson in there, of course there is.

Luke 15 is a trilogy of parables about lost things. One sheep out of 100, one coin out of ten, one son out of two. And in every story there is an all out effort to find and bring home.

In a heartbeat.

Got me some Monday morning blue jay action happening on the deck. I was hoping to post a picture of a very young one that is, for some reason, not as skittish of me as the others. At least I think he's young. Not quite as blue and still a bit scruffy around the edges. But even though he's a tad more relaxed, I still couldn't get him to pose for a picture. Kids these days!

So happy Monday to you!
I'll let you know if I make it around the island tomorrow!!!

Saturday's Simple Song

Psalm 98:1

Sing to the LORD a new song,

for He has done marvelous things.

Out under a moody sky this morning.
But never mind.
Already by now the clouds are clearing,
giving way to a spectacular Saturday.

No breeze yet, so the water is flat and quiet. Same with other cottages in our little bay. Quiet. Surprising for a Saturday, but I'm not complaining.

It's switch-back day. Our lovely renters have had a good week. But a little later today Ken will run them in to the marina, and meet up with Bill who'll be with us for the next few days. Bill, believe it or not, has been coming up here longer than I have, and I'm on my 51st summer! To me, it's such a gift of this season of life - those life-long friendships. And also, he brings steaks, so...

I am a tad concerned about Chester though. It's taken us the whole week to be friends. And now that he's quiet happy to come up the stairs for peanuts, I hope he can find me next store starting tomorrow. #usempathssheesh! #ithinktheresasupportgroupforthis

Otherwise, moving back and doing laundry will likely be all I do today. A good day. A simple day. A settling back in day.

But not before I linger here on our little deck singing all the new songs of right now.

Songs of joyful quiet.
Songs of marvelous things.
Songs of profound gratitude.
Songs of trusting unseen outcomes.
Songs of mindful contentment in present moment delights.

Hope your Saturday if full of new and simple songs.

Absence and Fonder Hearts

In this season of disciplined downsizing and letting go, I had not anticipated having kayak restrictions placed upon my bliss.

Out on the flat water this morning, I let it get kind of emotional. It's hard to describe the soul-effect of water and sky, unhurried dip of the paddle blade, rocks and trees and loon landing in a long, soft splash beside me. All and each sacred for their own unmeasurable worth.

All the longings for this cannot be met in one morning's ride.
But I try.

I supposed I've discovered a new level of fasting. And then it occurs to me that this whole big deal of our move to a smaller place, our being 'in between' for longer than looks sensible, our letting go and saying goodbye, of drawing small circles of 'necessary,' and the extra layer of physical, healing-from-surgery restrictions laid on top of it, all of it is like that. A fast from what I think I 'need,' to help me clarify my deeper longings.

I've so missed being out in the kayak early in the morning when it's quiet and the water is flat and my soul can be reassured once more that the One Who flung all this into place with a mere word, still speaks on my behalf.

"You, God, are my God.
Earnestly I seek You.
I thirst for You,
my whole being longs for You
in a dry and parched land
where there is no water."
Psalm 63:1

The irony of these words coming to mind as I rest lightly on the abundant waters of Georgian Bay is not lost on me. But the description of longing is right on the bean. That sense of being needy for something, with 'my whole being.'

This summer I will not accomplish my goal of beating my 37 times around record set last year. But maybe something else is being accomplished in me instead.

In other seasons of life, when the longings for things absent made my heart consumed with longing, I taught myself a 'breath prayer' (a spiritual practice that is pretty much self descriptive).

"Turn all my longings into longings for You."

May our hearts grow fonder, and softer, and wilder, and braver in the absence of all we long for.

Connections

 

Another coolish but beauteous morning.

Thursday, I remind myself. And as crazy as this sounds, it's the first day of the week where neither or us has anything on the calendar.

The combination of Zoom and technology, weekends where family is able to come for an unplanned visit, and friends and cousins here who love to have folks for dinner, has meant that for the past eights days running there's been something happening at a specific time for various reasons.

It's partly answering my question about connectivity.

I've been wondering how we will stay meaningfully connected with people even while 'isolated' on an island at a cottage that takes 45 minutes in a boat to get here.

This is a real thing for me. In our in between time of not having a home in KW, it's all fine and good for me to be grateful for a beloved roof over our heads here in this space that is truly sacred to us. It's all fine and good for me to focus on some recovery that still needs to be done from both the surgery and the move. It's all fine and good for me to hunker down into some of the more quiet and reflective work/writing this era of my ministry life requires of me.

But life is community. We were not meant to live in isolation. Not even us introverted types. We need each other. At least, I need you. And the richness of my relationships is not something I take for granted, or believe can run on autopilot for any length of time.

So it's been a thing I've wanted to be mindful of. Because I was concerned. But in these last days, I'd say I need not worry about connectivity.

Apparently, it won't be a problem.

Today Ken and I may do a dump run. That's to help take care of the piles of remaining construction leftovers and other unsightly corners of the property I don't usually take pictures of. (Perhaps that can be the topic of a future posting, because there's a few life lessons in that for me. But not today.)

Today we may or may not do the dump run. Because while it needs doing, it's not urgent. And even as we make sure to keep connected, it's also kind of nice to not have anything on the list for the day.

If I were to put anything else on this nothing-on-the-list day, it might be to take another step toward making friends with the chipmunk. I see my small offering of peanuts from yesterday is gone, and he just ran past on the rocks, stopped and looked at me, and carried on.

I shall name him Chester.

Hope your connections are good today.
Or you can just have a nothing-on-the-list kind of day.
Or that this Thursday just brings you whatever you need.

How to Frame Your Face and Other Instruction in Silliness

 

There's this thing our Thai kids do when they know you're taking their picture.

It consists of various finger poses at various angles around one's face.  This is something I've seen everywhere in Northern Thailand since I started going in 2008.  It's fun, it's quirky, and apparently it makes you look super cool.

Of course, when you're getting your picture taken in a more formal setting, for a group shot at school, or if you're in your school uniform, or any time you need a more sensible rendering of your person, then things can be all straight-laced and tidy.  No face framing happens then.

But if you're just kabbitzing around before or after evening worship, if somebody randomly points a camera at you and asks you to "yim" (smile), then no end of posing ensues.

And I love it.  I love that the children are free and comfortable and feel safe enough to be silly.  Safe enough with us as the "farangs" (foreigners).  Safe enough within our family.

I think before my exposure to the darker side of things for so many children in Thailand, and also other places around the world, I would have taken something as, well, silly as being silly for granted. 

Children play.  Children are carefree.  Children make faces and ham it up for the camera, or just do no end of antics just to be entertaining.  That's what children do.  Right?

Not all of them.  Some kids are too hungry, too lethargic, too anxious, too terrified to engage in the silly stuff.  And some of our kids, when they first get here, don't know how to frame their face for a photo.  They don't know how to have fun.  Life has been way to serious for them up until now.

Right now at Hot Springs there's an extra dose of silly fun, I think.  Perhaps because we have once again found ourselves with more younger children than older.  The age-wave changes as each group grows.  But for right now, lots of making faces, lots of big singing, lots of happy dancing and hilarity and joy.

Sometimes it occurs to me.

Every sad and awful thing that has ever happened in my life

is superseded,

and maybe even now makes sense

or at the very least just doesn't matter any more,

because of this.