28 August 2007, Day Nine
Chippewa Harbor
Today I gave myself completely to the lake. Waves were level with the top of my head ~ about a meter. I easily navigated the swells, but kept a continuous watch for reefs or shoals where they steepen or break. My boat finds the place it wants to be, today quite far from the shore. There is no question that any difficulty or capsize would be more easily dealt with in deep water than attempting to land.
I paddled 10 miles with only a short break in Blueberry Cove. When paddling manageable conditions along exposed shore, I want to arrive at protected water before conditions change. I did NOT want to give today's head wind time to build. Something shifted deep in me today with the paddling of those big waves. Death, for better or worse, has taken a step back. I am more confident.
(Later) Sitting zazen, my body continues to pulse with the rhythm of the waves: the sense of lifting and then settling. With a soft gaze the wood floor flows gently like water. Wrapped in a veil of solitariness, I speak with no one all day. A week into the trip, I imagine what minimal clothing I will wear when I do one load of laundry at Rock on day 14, since I can’t sit naked while everything gets clean
My back is stronger, it more easily loads and unloads about 50 pounds of gear plus the 50-pound boat. But I still get caught by a sharp twang if I am inattentive. My right shoulder has been slightly sore for the last few days. I baby it: don’t carry with that side; and rub it with Trameel.
(Later still) I am writing this by flashlight, which is humorous or sad or ironic. I’ve been careful to neither read nor write after dark to conserve batteries. Tonight I find, or rather do not find either the precious light or the batteries. Seems I’ve left them at the last shelter at Malone Bay. Most upsetting. But for Ronnie throwing this extra light in my bag I would be in a sad and slightly dangerous way. On this rocky ground even a few steps from the shelter at night risks a twisted ankle. So tonight I am face-to-face with both my vulnerability and imperfection in a world that cares little whether I live or die. I find it easier to have faith in a loving God when my life depends less on that love.
(Photo Note: This is the same shore, but on a calm day. Today the paddling requires too much attention to risk moving my hands for even one quick photograph.)