Indian Lake

June 28, 2017 11:30 pm (CST)
So, I’m sitting here- no, I’m laying here, head propped up on one arm twisted just behind my head- staring up at the dome of my little two person tent… my legs bare, one crossed upward on the other knee. I’m staring, mesmerized by the two dainty and disgusting little mosquitos that are dancing in the space left between the mesh ceiling and the rain fly. The small lantern which is suspended there has given just enough light to offer the bugs their distraction; the spotlight for their aerial performance and the same aide I used to target my victims prior. I was so thrilled to have finally eliminated the pests from the inside and was changing out of my campfire clothes when I got caught in this moment. Not a particularly unusual moment… I mean, how many times have I noticed bugs drawn to light? 

How many times have I heard the frogs chirping or been lulled to sleep by the breeze rustling the leaves on so many trees? My twenty-sixth birthday is days away and I am sure that I have experienced any of those things thousands of times. So, this is what I know…

Sometimes what we need is to be thrilled by the extraordinary. 

I thought that I was at a loss today after what seemed to be a stressful and disappointing driving tour of the North Shore. The sky gave way to the most torrential downpour I’ve seen in months and the visibility from the shoreline was maybe a mile. Having come this way to see one of the Great Lakes I made up my mind that my happiness had been defeated by the weather. My poor timing limited my visitation times at certain sites and I was still wet despite my rugged rain gear. What a drag. I felt the waitress at lunch searching to figure out why I seemed to be in such a state as I audibly sighed on repeat. I kept thinking about what I needed to do next, or what my circumstance should look like in order to provide me the happiness I felt deprived of. Poor me. I would forcibly remind myself that I should be thankful for what I did have (or where I was!) despite the slow and depressing afternoon. I couldn’t smile about it even then. 

Sometimes you think what you need is to be thrilled by the extraordinary. 

It turns out that on most days, what I actually need is to find a connection with or to something. This may offer itself in many forms. When I laid down and watched those bugs in the light while listening to the symphony of nature around me- that’s when I felt my peaceful resolution. The little bit of magic I witnessed when I saw fireflies for the first time tonight even felt pleasantly ordinary. I’m in a place far from anywhere I’ve been before, and this should really feel extraordinary… but it just doesn’t. Not like I imagined anyway. I feel in sync with nature, with this great big world, and I am now ready to close my eyes and welcome sleep. At last… sweet relief. 

There are any number of interpretations and life lessons one could conclude with here, but only one that I am interested in communicating to you for this occasion: when you know that you are in need of something, your only job is to obtain it. That may be of the spiritual, physical, or mental realms. Don’t force yourself to feel a certain way because it’s how it should be. Today I found joy through relevance; my Extraordinary in the everyday Ordinary. 

Indian Lake, Brimson, Minnesota