Lessons learned from my Columbus Day Camping/Paddling Trip: Lesson #3

This one was more confirmed than learned...it is stuff that I already knew.  My recent camping/paddling trip, plus a few other things that have happened in the past week just brought it more to the forefront.  Which is right where it should be.

Lesson 3: It's all about the jouney.  Period. 

I will never understand why this one is so hard for so many people to 'get'.  In the end, the journey is all that ever matters.  We will all reach the same destination -- some of us will take longer to get there, some of us will take shorter to get there.  For some of us it will be an easy path and for others a more difficult path.  But we will all get there.  Death is the great equalizer. None of us will avoid it, so why on earth would you choose NOT to enjoy the journey?

Last weekend, we paddled approximately 14 miles on Sunday.  About 2.5 miles into the journey, I heard a few of the paddlers grumbling that we needed to pick up the pace.  I let this go on for a short while, but those of you who know me well, know that I eventually must succumb to the urge to 'clarify' things. 

This was the view that we had that day...


Beach at Hog Island NWR


...why on earth would you want to rush things along? 




 



Cypress Seed Pod (taken by my friend, Clint).



When you forget to enjoy the journey, you miss the details...like the very cool Cypress seed pods that my friend and fellow paddler, Clint, found and photographed on the beach at lunchtime.   


Eventually, I did speak up and said to the main grumbler... 

"I'm sorry that you don't know me very well, or you would have realized that
when I lead a paddle...we don't rush.  
I prefer to take my time and enjoy the scenery.  I'm here for the journey. 

I prefer to enjoy the view and the day and to take the time to see new and interesting things. 

 If we just race to the destination, we miss out on the real reason that we're here."

A short while later, after we paddled a bit further, she was muttering to another woman again.  So...I quietly paddled over to her and said privately,

"Again...I'm sorry that you are frustrated with things. 

If you're in a hurry today...you signed up for the wrong paddle."

Eventually, when we stopped for lunch, a few of the disgruntled had decided that they had had enough of my lollygagging and said that they would break off as a group to head back to the launch site. 

I wished them a safe paddle and suggested a route which would have been 'the path of least resistance' as it related to the current.  It was obvious that they were not going to listen to my advice -- they had listened long enough, and all they had to show for it was a slowpoke paddle.  Off they went. 

Approximately 30 minutes later, we noticed that the ones who were in a hurry didn't seem to be moving.    A few of the paddlers who had stayed with me paddled out to them to see if they were okay.  One of the women in our group, again, suggested a route to help them get to shore.  She came back and said that she thought she had upset them by suggesting a route. 

(Later, one of the women in the other group shared with me that the current was so strong that they seemed to be able to just paddle enough to keep their boats straight -- but not to make any progress.  Heck..that is what we had been trying to tell them and why we had suggested alternate routes-- but they were in too much of a hurry to listen, it seems.) 

Ironically, when we got back to shore, we had paddled 3-4 miles more than they had, yet we were only minutes behind them when we landed. 

We had enjoyed the journey and were still chatting and smiling when we came off the water.  They  ended up tiring themselves out and as we were loading our boats, none of them seemed to be smiling very much.

Ol' Aesop had it figured out.  We modern and enlightened folks...well, not so much sometimes. 

The passing of Steve Jobs has brought the journey to the forefront for many people.  Lots of accolades and tributes and lots of people this past week discussing what a visionary man he was.  What a difference he made in the world. 

...and they're right.  He did. 

However, what most folks don't realize is that each and every one of us has the ability to make a difference if we want to.  Sure...we don't have the power and influence of a Steve Jobs on the global scale...but you know what?  Neither did he when he started out.  Don't believe me?  Listen to the words of the man, yourself. 

I watched his Stanford graduation address again this past week.  If you have not yet seen it, watch it.  It is fifteen minutes well spent. 

What?  You don't think that you have fifteen minutes to spare? 

Then, my friend, I'm not sure what you're doing at this blog...because you don't have time to waste reading my ramblings "for real, for real" (that's middle schooler talk and it means really and truly and I really, really, really mean it -- to the unenlightened among you). 

Yes.  If that is the case, then for real, for real, you don't get it. 

The song, Colors of the Wind, from Disney's Pocahantas has been on my mind a lot this week, too.

(Did you notice how I did that?  I have seen what happens over at YouTube when folks don't credit the big commercial boys with something.  I'm not going there.)  Yep...Disney's Pocahantas.  Not to be confused with the for real, for real Pocahantas -- the one whose spirit I feel in the wind and see in the sunsets when I paddle in the same places she did -- like I did last weekend (photos below -- see Lesson #1). 

Anyway...I have been humming and singing and whistling that song all weekend long. 

I must have watched a dozen versions of this song on YouTube last night.  This one is my personal favorite. 

It made me cry. 

I am sure that it is due not only to the song, but also, in part,
To the fact that it is early autumn in Virginia...
The colors are on the verge of changing...
The weather is beautiful...
The days are shorter...
The nights are quiet...
And I am hearing the owls more at night.

Local farmers are picking their corn...
After the combine goes through, of course, there is stubble and corn in the field.
As a result, the deer herd is now often seen in the open.
The little bucks who have been growing up this season are now more visible...
And very handsome, I might add.

This is my very favorite time of the year. 

So...if you wonder why I have not been posting for the past few days, it's not that I've not been slacking on blogging.  I've been enjoying the journey.


 In fact, that's what I'm headed out to do right now.