As I was waiting for a class to begin earlier this week, one of my friends asked a seemingly simple question about my life. The question went a little like this: "Paige, what has been your greatest adventure and what did it teach you?" Bam. Not exactly the type of question I was expecting at 9 o'clock in the morning before I had finished my first cup of coffee. At the time, I tried to defer the question with a giggle and a quick change of subject. But even though the topic was avoided in conversation, the two questions lingered in my mind throughout the day.
What has been your greatest adventure? What did it teach you?
All of us have been apart of an unusual and exciting experience or activity. Some would argue that life itself is adventure and I would have to agree. However, for this question, I decided to focus on a much smaller and more specific scale by reflecting on recent escapades and moments of fun.
This past summer I spent a few weeks traveling along the California coastline from Los Angeles to Big Sur, making many stops along the way for pictures, bathroom breaks, and food. (Heaven forbid that my family would go longer than 4 hours without a meal.) During our short time on the west coast we strolled down Rodeo Drive, found Betty Whites' star outside the Chinese Theatre, enjoyed gelato on Hunnington beach, explored several of the Paso Robles vineyards, and grabbed lunch on the pier at Morro Bay. (Honestly, an entire post should have already been dedicated the greatness of this vacation.) Among the list of activities was a deep sea fishing excursion. I mean, who wouldn't want to fish in the Pacific Ocean?
With eager spirits and borrowed equipment, our deep sea fishing adventure began at dawn by checking into a ratchety shack where a change box replaced a cash register and cleaning supplies were nonexistent. The smell of fish and Cheetos filled the thick salty air. Yummy, huh? After exchanging my money for a boarding ticket and a fishing license, my name was mumbled by a man with an untamed grey beard, indicating that it was my turn to board the boat. With caution I teetered down a set of metal stairs that connected the pier to the fishing boat. To my surprise, the boat was nostalgic and meek in stature. In my non-experienced mind, I had envisioned a cruise ship. Or a yacht. Or a ferry. With a deep breathe, my weight shifted from the pier onto the P.O.S...I mean, onto the boat. There was no turning back.
Deep sea fishing. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the process (like I was) let me reel out some information and catch you up to speed. Once all the passengers have boarded, the boat exists the shallow waters and travels to a location with more depth. Hence the name deep sea fishing. After traveling for thirty minutes at a steady pace, you realize that you are actually stranded. Like, not just a little bit stranded. You are completely isolated from shore without a life-jacket or a sanitary bathroom. Once we reach the starting location, the captain lowers the anchor and shouts "lett'er drop". (Translation: begin fishing) All the fishermen drop their lines and wait for a bite.
It can't be that difficult, right?
And so the adventure began. I strategically placed my fishing pole over the railing and allowed my line to sink downward until it reached the appropriate depth. A sudden sense of confidence cascaded over me as I diligently eyed the orange and yellow bobber that was relaxing on the surface of the water. And then, out of no where, I felt the boat begin to sway. First to the left. Then to the right. Back and forth, the boat danced the Cupid Shuffle with an ever increasing force. With one hand I held the fishing pole while my other hand grasped the railing out of panic. At that point I realized that my confidence was premature. How was I supposed to fish when I could barely stand? Next to me, an older man reeled in his first catch of the day, took the fish off the hook, and then tossed the scaly fish into a sack beside my feet. The boat continued to sway and as the fish wiggled and shimmied inside the bag, I felt my stomach do the same.
Suddenly, a crew member staggered to the railing beside me. Raising up his calloused hand he pointed to the horizon and suggested that I fix my eyes on a huge rock that stood stationary in the distance. I assume he gives this advice to all the passengers who look weak. Without questioning, I followed directions and my nauseous stomach began to settle even in the midst of the rocking boat and flopping fish. Soon I began my own collection of fish, pausing often to fix my eyes on the rock and maintain my balance. With tiring arms and a a nervous headache, I finally caught enough fish to reach the limit that is stated in the California bylaws, but unfortunately I never caught the man's name who offered the invaluable advice. You see, I believe that man is actually very wise.
In this life we often find ourselves being swayed in many directions. Sometimes life can be rocky, unsteady, and very unpredictable causing us to lose our balance and making it difficult to stand. Other times we find ourselves consumed by living up to the successes of others, mesmerized by the commotion of everyday life, and coveting our neighbors flopping fish. Do you feel me? In doing so, we quickly become weak and our hearts become ill. During moments of stress, busy agendas, hopeful encounters, and confusing defeats I think of the man standing on the boat and pointing to the horizon.
Fix your eyes on The Rock.
In doing so I am sweetly reminded that my anxiety can be cast away and I continually find that my heart is happy.
So now it's my turn to ask you a question.
What has been your greatest adventure?
-jpr
