Reflections on the Bioluminescent Bay

I recently had the privilege of traveling to Puerto Rico.  While there, I had an amazing experience kayaking in one of the few bioluminescent bodies of water in the world.  This one was La Laguna Grande - you can look it up if you want the scientific explanation as to how and why the microscopic, single-celled dinoflagellates light up when agitated by movement. 

Let me just mention that this was my first experience with kayaking, which I found to be both challenging and instructive.  I enjoyed using my body and brain together to achieve a goal.  I also enjoyed the teambuilding aspect of it as I shared a kayak with a coworker.  There were elements of trust, partnership, leadership, and cooperation involved.  At one point, I realized that it was not unlike other physical activities that two humans share together, like ballroom dancing and making love.  It requires a certain amount of coordination and intention, mixed with a certain amount of flexibility and free expression.  Focus and flow.  If you have an individualistic mindset, your results are going to probably come more slowly (if at all), and you will garner a lot of frustration and disagreement along the way.

There was something a little scary about being out on the water during the dark of night, having only a glow bracelet on the kayak in front of you to follow.  From time to time, we'd bump into low trees back in the narrow channels of water, and even get stuck on the shoreline.  So it required a certain level of bravery and faith.  And about the time you built up a little confidence and courage....that's when the miraculous part of the adventure happened.

As the oar made contact with the water, it blazed a trail of glowing luminescence in the water.  It was beautiful, amazing!!  Curiosity thrust my hand into the water, and as I gently stroked the water, I left a temporary mark of glowing finger trails in the water.  Splashing the water on your legs left a fleeting bit of glowing "paint" splattered on your skin.    It was awesome!!!!!

Now....if you'll bear with me, here's where the metaphoric part of the experience comes, as well as the personal aspect of the adventure that I created for myself. 

About a year ago, I was engaged to be married.  The engagement and the relationship turned out to be less durable than the Titanium wedding band I'd purchased for him.  After a couple of unsuccessful attempts at selling the ring (gold is what's popular now I guess), I decided I'd unload it by taking it to Puerto Rico and leaving it there.  I took it to the bio bay that night.  And as I relied upon my new kayaking skills, the instruction of a stranger, the partnership of a colleague, and the light of the moon to help me find my way....I felt an immeasurable swell of peace.  In one of the darkest bends of the narrow channel of water, I slipped that ring off of my thumb.  I felt conflicted about what I was about to do.  In some ways it seemed unnecessary, wasteful.  I consciously thought to myself "You need to let go of this hurt and this pain.  You need to believe that God is not going to let you tip over into murky water or leave you washed up on the shore.  He's given you just enough light to navigate on the water.  He's given you a capable leader.  He has shown you that what at first seems scary and insurmountable can turn out to be peaceful, beautiful, and awe-inspiring."

When that ring hit the water, it created a momentary glow that emanated up through the water as the ring spiraled down before coming to rest.  It was rather beautiful. 

I wish our love was right now

I wish we could come together, as a team, yet as two strong individuals knowing who they are and what we want out of life.  I wish I could lean into your strong body, feeling your chin rest on the top of my head as I let myself believe you would do anything to protect me.  I wish we could finish each other’s sentences and laugh at each other’s jokes until tears seep from our eyes.  I wish we could admire each other’s accomplishments.  I wish we could share our dreams and challenge one another to pursue them.  I wish we would always treat one another with love and respect, even when we disagree, even when we make each other mad and we get short with one another and find each other annoying.  I wish we would make it a priority to invite God into the center of our relationship, and grow in our faith together, but separately.  I wish I could take care of you in my little ways and let you take care of me in your ways.  I wish we could regard one another with pride in our eyes.  I wish I could count on you to have my back.  I wish we could always keep it in the forefront of our minds that love is precious and rare and can never just coast on fumes of fuel – that it must always be fed or at least maintained and cared for.  I wish I knew where you are.  I wish I knew who you are. 

You Put Your Gum WHERE?!?

During my family's Easter dinner, my sister-in-law discovered there was not one, but two pieces of chewed gum stuck under the dining room chair upon which she was sitting.  We spent a moment or two blaming the children and speculating as to its origin.  I half-jokingly blamed an ex of mine.  Yeah, I'm goin' there.  Not an important question in the grand scheme of life, but really - how hard is it to properly dispose of gum you're done chewing?

This guy put gum in the most inopportune places.  I mean, I found it on furniture, on coasters, on bookshelves, on the interior of the car......and I it explained to me.  I realize maybe some people can't swallow their gum, or don't want to.  But how hard is it to make it to the nearest trash can, to put it on your plate, etc.?  To whomever stuck their gum under my parents' dining room chair...the kitchen is 10 shakes away and there's a trash can right there.  So I don't get it.  Hell, I've swallowed other people's gum before...in a tight spot.  Sheesh!

Making Music

Have you ever sang in a choir?  As I sat in church last night watching the conductor of our orchestra, I was mesmerized. It's because it reminded me of the experience of singing in a choir. 

When you sing in a choir, you should be exhausted afterward.  There's a lot of thinking going on as you keep one eye to the sheet music, one eye to the director, anticipating what's coming next, remembering oddities about the music, remembering where to breathe so as to not wind up breathing in the middle of a word, and so forth. 

To me, it's an amazing thing to experience.  Part of it is because I'm not one to let someone else be in control of me.  But in this case, it feels good because it's allowing me to be a part of creating something beautiful: music.  With one motion of the hand, or with raised eyebrows, or a look in the eye....you as a singer get the message they are trying to send: "louder" or "get ready - that tricky part is coming" or "nice job!"  You have to learn to trust the director, that they aren't going to cue you to sing on a rest or get loud when you're supposed to sing quietly.  Essentially, you do whatever they direct you to do, plus you bring your hours of rehearsal and preparation to the table. 

It's really like a master puppeteer scenario.  Sometimes I feel as if there is a tiny string between the director's finger and my ribs.  When they give that hand motion that you'd give someone to say "come on over - quickly - the coast is clear" I push out air from my diaphragm to follow the cue of singing louder, louder, until sometimes my body is trembling from the exertion of air.  But you're not just a puppet....you're a willing, prepared, talented participant.  You're there to perform the best you possibly can, and they are there to steer you and to push you. 

Singing in a choir also brings that rare experience of working together in utter cooperation and teamwork.  You want, more than anything, for those tenors to hit their harmony right.  You need the person next to you keep in time so as not to distract you.  You silently pray that the sopranos will hit that high note and when they do, the corners of your mouth pull into a smile because you're so proud to be a part of such a talented group of people, and because you're genuinely happy for the sopranos for nailing it, because you know how much they struggled in rehearsals with that measure. 

Why can't we live our lives like that?  Reflecting on all of this made me think about how we conduct ourselves in the workplace, but mostly about how we conduct ourselves as people.  In music (and in sports I would argue) we experience the things I described above....if we're doing it right.  But when's the last time you've really wanted to see your coworker succeed and not been secretly pleased to see them stumble?  When's the last time you've felt a part of something amazing that you could not have done by yourself?  Are you willing to follow the rules or guidelines while you trust the person in charge?  Are we assembled in the risers with one eye on God and one eye on His written word, doing our best to follow it to a "T"? 

Each of us brings a talent, a unique voice.  But when we're willing to join our voices with other amazing voices, to practice our parts, memorize the words, and take instruction from the director, our talents are amplified and multiplied into something far bigger than we are.

Affix Your Own Oxygen Mask Before Assisting Others

Anyone who has been on a plane has heard this bit of advice.  Recently, I've been reminded of this concept as a parent, friend, manager, and employee. 

I have reactive hypoglycemia and have to plan for - and treat - low blood sugar every few hours, every day.  After mowing the lawn on a warm afternoon last weekend, I found myself struggling to stay upright as I finished the last few rows of grass.  I knew exactly what was wrong, but I chose to press on (stubborn people can become downright belligerent with moderate hypoglycemia) and finish the task at hand (I'm a Type A list maker who derives pleasure from crossing things off said lists).  The mower made it to the driveway (not to the garage), and I made it inside the house, but not up to the kitchen where my glucose tablets live.  Then I'm shouting at my kids, asking them to run and get my glucose, something to drink, and a granola bar, as well as my blood sugar meter.  They've seen this a million times and have even seen me pass out several times, so they aren't too impressed by my dramatic entrance and desperate demands.  So at the same time I'm trying to articulate what I need and whip my kids into action (my daughter is wasting time by asking what kind of granola bar I'd prefer and whether she can have one too), I'm also trying to retain my consciousness while my head is swimming and my body is trembling. 

If I had just stopped mowing and taken a break to have a snack, I wouldn't have arrived in this moment of helplessness and panic.  And for as long as I was in a compromised state of health, I was unable to be much of a parent (or much of a lawnmower!).

In life, too, we must learn to recognize the signs our bodies and souls give us, signaling that we are fatigued, overdrawn, compromised, conflicted, or failing.  We need to spend time tending to ourselves.  Only then, when we are more full than empty, more fulfilled than in longing, more restful than weary...are we able to provide reliable support or guidance to other people, other causes.  Stretching ourselves too thin winds up serving no one.  Not well, anyways.