Moving Forward

I don't want to allow another day to pass before writing. Before writing something, anything so the first post on my blog is not yesterday's "Mourning the Losses".

Mourning is necessary. Even healing. But it can be dangerous.

My sister (the genius I wrote about a few days ago) reminded me that these waters of emotional turmoil can be dangerous. Her analogy, which follows, is brilliant.

In our younger years, while our father was still alive, we were frequent companions as he pursued his canoeing/whitewater passion. Nearby Elkhorn Creek was a favorite of his... in part because it was a short drive from home and also because a hard rain created some fairly significant rapids. (Class III maybe?)

My sister recalled that any paddle down the Elkhorn involved a portage on land to circumvent its dam. Portages are not fun. Let me say that again, portages are NOT FUN! Canoes are damn heavy and we always took a ton of gear. We would heft the upside down canoe atop our shoulders and set off down the muddy and treacherously slippery creekside path. It was hard walking, even for a short distance. The foremost thought on a portage is to get just far enough past the danger and put the damn canoe back into the water where it belongs.

It's a little tricky, though. The waters below the dam are subject to creating currents that can pull objects back into the hydraulic created by the falling water. JD recalled paddling that section of the Elkhorn on a day that a man drowned because he put his boat into the creek too close to the dam.

She cautioned me about revisiting painful situations before I get far enough away from them that I don't get sucked backwards into a hydraulic from which I can't get out. Mourning can be like that... backwards sucking power that can trap you and leave you disoriented and gasping for air as you rotate in a wave that won't release you.

I'm happy to say that I was patient (hear that, Ken!) and didn't put my canoe into the water too soon. I portaged a safe distance from the dam, and I'm happy to say that after a day of grieving in the relatively safe waters downstream of the dam, I've put my paddle back in the water and with some determined and powerful forward strokes I'm moving around the bend and leaving the sadness behind. Looking ahead, I see some challenging rapids, but no obvious dangers. Just a sweet day's paddle with good-hearted companions. Life is good. "Hey, somebody get me a beer out of the coo..hey! We forgot the cooler when we portaged!" Oh well... no looking back...