A sea of calm in a storm of chaos

For anyone who has ever attempted white water rafting you know that the #1 thing to remember while entering the rapids is that you don't stop paddling. I've heard the guides constantly remind us that when you get scared or the rapids seem too strong, paddle harder and listen to the commands. If you stop paddling during the rush of the rapids a whole slue of things could happen. People can fall over, the boat can flip, you can run aground, etc. Don't stop paddling.

I remember taking teens from my youth group rafting - we did it each summer - and the guide had to continually yell at us every time to keep paddling. Each time we tackled a class 4 or 5 he would scream "don't stop paddling," "keep going," "we're almost through." But every time another raft from our flotilla would be overturned and teenage girls would be screaming because there hair was wet or something slippery brushed their leg. And every time we would get through and into an eddy the guides would remind us how important it was to keep paddling. Although we wanted to stop out of fear, that's when we needed to paddle harder to avoid hazards and getting stuck in the hydraulics.

If there’s one thing that I’ve learned it’s that life is a lot like white water rafting. Your trip begins nice and smooth as you start at the put-in and follow the leisurely paced current, just how life is most of the time and you eventually find rapids that sneak up just ahead or around the next turn. And when you seem to approach the intense rapids of life, whether it’s work, relationships or just the stress of things going on that are out of your control, and you begin to get caught up in the crushing water that’s spraying overhead. When you feel the crunch of the rocks below and the violent current, that's when out of instinct you want to stop paddling and hold on. The moment you want to cease your paddling out of fear. The moment when your entire body is struck with fear, frozen by the intense realization that you're no longer in control. That instant when your raft bounces from rock to rock like a pinball in a machine. It is then that you need to paddle the most. It doesn’t matter if you’re scared or worried; because like life, the river doesn’t cater to you. It owes you nothing. It's unforgiving. It's relentless. So is life. You just have to bite your lip and paddle, paddle out of instinct. Paddle for survival. You paddle for yourself. That’s how you’ll survive all of what the river can throw at you, and that’s how you’ll survive the rapids that lay ahead in life.

Regardless of where you find yourself in your journey. Whether you're sitting pretty with a nice McMansion and a power suit, power steering-type job or you're struggling to break into a career. Whether you're barely making ends meet or you've got everything you want. No matter where you are you'll find yourself constantly going in and out of relentless rocky rapids of fear, frustration and chaos. It is then when everything sucks and it seems you've lost control that you must keep paddling. Forcing yourself to keep pushing forward. Pushing you to go on, paddle faster. Just like any river, and in our lives, no matter how rough the rapids, a welcome eddy calmly awaits to slowly carry you along until that next round of rapids - that sits down river, just around that corner that you're not ready for - waits to take you on again. Head on.

But if you paddled on once, you can do it again. Today you become that sea of calm amongst the storm of chaos that is your life.


Until next time...

Off ramp ramblings from a little black bird

Just yesterday I sat at a red light on the off ramp of the highway and witnessed such a frustrating and glorious act that explains the last seven months of my life to the fullest. As I sat and stared off into the clear blue sky ahead of me I saw this small bird soaring through the sky. He flapped his wings and cut through the air so delicately. His wings sliced through the strong afternoon breeze cleanly and without any resistance, just like a knife cutting through a freshly baked loaf of bread. It was such a beautiful site to see as he attempted to make his way.

The only downside, and also the frustrating part for him, was that he was attempting to cut through the brash winds that prevented him from going anywhere. For anyone who has sat at the off ramp of 71 South at Polaris you know that you're most likely going to sit their for about three minutes. For the entire time that I sat there I saw this poor guy, this little black bird in the far off sky, flap and flap his wings harder and harder, but not get anywhere. I could feel his pain as he tried his best to move on but got nothing. He tried his darnedest only to be slapped in the face by the brisk sting of the coming evening chill. As the light changed to green and I set my foot upon the gas I began to speed up through the intersection just as the wind died down and my frustrated feathery friend was freed from the shackles of mother nature and flew away into the bright afternoon sky like John Wayne riding off into a sunset after a gun fight and winning the heart of a beautiful damsel in distress.

It made me think that through the past several months I too have tried my hardest to move on with my life. I gave it my all to move forward, only to be kept in the same spot for one reason or another. A rejection email for a job, losing out to a more seasoned and experienced candidate in the final round of interviews or being restrained by the reality of a stagnant economy and decreasing job market. I've flapped my wings faster and faster, day after day, in hopes to fly the coop and begin my ongoing journey of adulthood, only to be held back by the hurricane force winds of neglect and receding realities. Like that bird, I gave it my all and got nowhere.

But eventually there comes a time - when you least expect it and as you're trying your hardest - that the wind dies down, the skies open up, the sun begins to shine brighter, and you break loose of the realistic restraints of the "world" you're living in. You begin to make way towards those greener pastures, the righteous path and that new mountain that stands before you. You attack it head on and with the fiery passion of a thousand suns.

Just like the bird that I saw on such a majestic and trying afternoon I challenge you to continue fighting against those unexpected forces that are holding you back. Don't give up, never surrender, just keep going. Eventually you'll break free and begin your way to the promise land, whatever that may be for you. Accept the challenge and bask in the glory of the day when you are set free, enjoying the success of not giving up and becoming free of what's been holding you back.

Until next time...