A few weekends ago, I went camping with my husband, kids, and my mom. Actually, we were invited by my mom to go with her to the El-Roy Sparta bike trail in Wisconsin. We spent 4 glorious days unplugged with no internet or cell phone access. Each day started with a cup of coffee under the cool shade of the trees as we contemplated what we felt like doing that day.
Usually, I relax and do very little when I camp. I bring a book or 2 and find a cozy spot to read while everyone does whatever they want to do. I like to hike and explore, but mostly I like to read and listen to the sounds of the forest: the wind blowing through the trees, birds speaking to each other, and the faint whisper of a leaf falling every now and then. But this trip was different.
Part of the difference was we went to a place known for activity. The campground we stayed at, Tunnel Trail Campground, was right along the bike path and less than a mile from one of three cool, dark tunnels so the temptation to go see the tunnels was too great to ignore. The other draw was all of the people coming off the trail talking about the trip, the tunnels, and how many miles they went that day. I couldn’t resist! I had to see the tunnels.
On Sunday I took a shorter ride with my mom through the close tunnel. We went about 9 miles roundtrip. The tunnel was awesome! We could barely see the light at the other end. The whole thing felt very Tolkien like, I pictured Gandalf and the fellowship standing around the entrance to the mines of Moria trying to figure out how to open the gates. In our case, it was open already. The mist from the water only added to the effect.
That same afternoon, we canoed down the Kickapoo River. My mom and I were in 1 canoe and the kids and Robert were in another. We laughed our way through the entire 3 hour trip! We kept running into things and getting turned around because we weren’t very good at it and I even threw my oar out of the canoe at one point- in order to save my life of course! Luckily, it landed on dry land and my daughters were able to retrieve it for me.
Part way through the trip I was thinking about how many times I’ve heard life compared to a river: full of bends and rapids and how one can either ride the current and be swept along, or fight the current and try to change the course of the river. Obviously trying to fight the river is meant to symbolize a life full of suffering and hardship. In our case we all spent most of the trip trying to paddle without running into anything- with little success of course! If that trip was symbolic of my life, it explains a lot. I kept running into things, getting turned around, and laughing so hard I had tears coming out of my eyes. At one point we had to ask another group of people in a canoe to give us a push so we could head in the right direction again.
If life is like a river, then I think I’m ok with laughing my way through it. Several times we stopped and played in the water under majestic rock formations (like the one pictured above) that were too beautiful to ignore and the heat of the day only helped to drive us into the cool waters of the river. If that is my life so be it. When it was over, we all agreed it was the most fun we had had in a long time. I left that river being reminded following:
- laugh more
- worry less
- Do not ignore the beauty that surrounds me.
It was a very good reminder. Do you have a metaphor for life? I’d love to hear it. As always, thanks for reading.
Suzanne