Your image of being centered without being grounded reminds me of a significant mind shift I had about navigated that was given to me first navigating the Yukon River and which continues to serve me more broadly in navigating life.
I came into my canoeing life as a lakes paddler. When you want to know where you to go when you paddle on a lake, you start from understanding where you start. Your reference points are solid ground. If I look up and see an island or a bay, I look to identify that same island or bay on a map. From there I interpret from the map which reference point I am currently near and which reference point I would like to be close to. I choose my destination and I choose my route.
When Heather and I traveled down the Yukon river in 1996 we had river maps, but we read them like lake maps. We looked ahead to anticipate what our route would look like analyzing each bend in the river. This became more and more difficult as the river got bigger and straighter when each page of the river map got more and more identical to the last. I panicked as I lost my ability to recognize reference points along the side of the river, especially when the current strongly swooped us to the opposite bank. That was also the first time when I noticed that the river maps included arrows that showed where the current was and that a huge crosscurrent was drawn onto the map. I found my place on the map not by knowing where I started on the shore, but rather by recognizing where the river was taking me. Slowly I was able to let go of my attachment to being able to mark exactly where I was on the shore and to recognize that the current would take me where the river was going.
Several years later as I made some decisions that uprooted me from many of my known reference points, but seemed to be a clear case of way opening. I held a picture of the river and the river map in my mind and my prayer became " The river knows where the river is going. Trust the river." I could let go of my nervousness of not recognizing the shore and landmarks of my new environment by envisioning that the river knew its course and I could trust to float the current.
Navigating lakes one determines one's own destination and uses a compass and a reading of the land to chart a course. It's a familiar way for many of us to also think we can navigate our lives. Switching navigation tools to float a river takes some letting go. Trusting the river is an image you, Michael frequently hold out for us. As you talk of new kinds of floating in your brain the image I hold up for you is doing a backfloat and trusting the course of the beloved river to bring you to where the river is going. Grateful as always to being invited on that journey.
Thank you for this update. I'm joining you in the floating and finding center there and flow. So much love coming your way. You are indeed held within a web of tenacles of love and community.
dear michael,
good to see you are back to caring bridge posts when you are up to it....I appreciate reading them whenever....I actually had a 4 day vacation...spent the time with my two blood sisters on their Wisconsin 'farms'. No animals...just birdhouses, flowers and veggies and husbands and grandkids. ..it was restful just to walk out in the fields and have a cup of early morning coffee on the front porch listening to birds and waiting for the sun rise...calm amd peace and surrounded by love...I brought you to my morning prayer there!
love,
Suzanne
After reading your post I had such a lovely and clear day dream of a Lake Nokomis flashmob. Hundreds of Michael Bishoff Beloveds moving from the lake's edges to the center. Some people moving slowly, luxuriously. Others splashing, playing, laughing and squealing. Then as if signaled by a great mystery, it got quiet and all of the hundreds began to float.... we floated for hours and the wind blew us into new and repeating patterns. The ducks swam through us. The paddle boarders stayed at the periphery. Then again as if by a silent collective knowing, we shifted our bodies to upright and we streamed to the beach. You were in the middle of the stream. You were lifted up as we came out to the water. You were resting. It was PEACE. It was JOY.
I also was reminded of Judy Sorum Brown's poem, Trough so took some time to read it and float.
Deep gratitude for your continued invitation to notice, connect and be open to all that is (known and unknown).
It might be harder to do, but I am selfishly grateful that you made the effort to write this. It’s beautiful and timely for me as well. Thank you! As per usual, you are a gift. I will bob along with you in these capricious waters.
I came into my canoeing life as a lakes paddler. When you want to know where you to go when you paddle on a lake, you start from understanding where you start. Your reference points are solid ground. If I look up and see an island or a bay, I look to identify that same island or bay on a map. From there I interpret from the map which reference point I am currently near and which reference point I would like to be close to. I choose my destination and I choose my route.
When Heather and I traveled down the Yukon river in 1996 we had river maps, but we read them like lake maps. We looked ahead to anticipate what our route would look like analyzing each bend in the river. This became more and more difficult as the river got bigger and straighter when each page of the river map got more and more identical to the last. I panicked as I lost my ability to recognize reference points along the side of the river, especially when the current strongly swooped us to the opposite bank. That was also the first time when I noticed that the river maps included arrows that showed where the current was and that a huge crosscurrent was drawn onto the map. I found my place on the map not by knowing where I started on the shore, but rather by recognizing where the river was taking me. Slowly I was able to let go of my attachment to being able to mark exactly where I was on the shore and to recognize that the current would take me where the river was going.
Several years later as I made some decisions that uprooted me from many of my known reference points, but seemed to be a clear case of way opening. I held a picture of the river and the river map in my mind and my prayer became " The river knows where the river is going. Trust the river." I could let go of my nervousness of not recognizing the shore and landmarks of my new environment by envisioning that the river knew its course and I could trust to float the current.
Navigating lakes one determines one's own destination and uses a compass and a reading of the land to chart a course. It's a familiar way for many of us to also think we can navigate our lives. Switching navigation tools to float a river takes some letting go. Trusting the river is an image you, Michael frequently hold out for us. As you talk of new kinds of floating in your brain the image I hold up for you is doing a backfloat and trusting the course of the beloved river to bring you to where the river is going. Grateful as always to being invited on that journey.