From Kevin: On Vision and Its Uncertainty
I write this from The Sea of Cortez in San Felipe, (Baja) Mexico where Grace and I are currently in our RV, Gordito. Staying at an RV camp, we are parked just yards from the beach and surf where minutes ago I finished a dip into the warm Mexican surf.
I love the sights, sounds and fragrances of the beach. It’s calming and peaceful and it calls me out to relax and be at peace. Coming here, I knew that I would wade into these waters, but I have some reservations about this unknown-to-me sea. While I enjoy oceans, seas, lakes, and rivers I’m always a bit hesitant to jump in because the earth’s waters are not always transparent.
With that in mind, today I was uncertain about how far I was willing to wade out to begin floating or swimming – to lift my feet off the sand. When this tide recedes it reveals the sand, seashells, surf beaten rocks, the remains of crabs, discarded plastics, and a tapering sandbar the goes out into the horizon (about 400 yards) without a visible drop off. It’s impossible to see the sandy bottom when the tide rolls in, just the murky rolling waters on the surface.
As a kid growing up in northern California, my siblings and I were required to learn and swim all the strokes you see in the Olympic Games. I even passed a lifeguard safety class by the age of twelve. So I swim with confidence. But now I’m embarrassed to say that the thought of a sea predator breeching the shoreline looking for prey crosses my mind occasionally, as does stepping on jellyfish or broken glass. Realistically, there are no human-hunting sea monsters in these waters…only in my mind. But I’m still hesitant to wade in deeper.
These negative thoughts or fears play with my brain when I’m near large bodies of water, and I’m not sure where they come from (and I don’t believe it’s because I saw the movie “Jaws”). With these doubts and fears, I often have to give myself a pep talk, “…get off your duff,” “…quit thinking,” “…just wade in,” “…it’s no big deal.” For me on this day, it means to wade in, walk farther out to where my vision was set…to the end of the sand bar.
For me, life experiences are like tidal pattern changes, like the planet’s natural forces and events. Though the sea is in front of me, I do not know what is below the murky surface or further out into deeper water. I want to go out there, but I hesitate. If I have intention to get there, I must venture out. And I am fully aware that I can turn back to the safety of the beach and shelf this opportunity as another “coulda, woulda, shoulda.”
I’m learning, as I enter the last quarter of my life, to focus on how I live now – with aging and limited abilities – yet with desire for vitality and the same sense of wonderment from my youth. I am choosing, in each second, to live fully and realize that time can be my ally or my enemy with each decision I make (which may or may not influence the days of my tomorrow).
The decision to spend a week at this Baja beach couldn’t have been accomplished without a vision, a plan, and a step forward. Our discussions about the road trip into Mexico involved the discussion of how, when, what, and why but also included the doubts and mind-messing sabotage of uncertainty as to how we’d ultimately make this adventure happen. Now that we’re here, we celebrate each day on the beach and look back at all the uncertainty as a lesson and a thing of the past. Turns out most of our doubts were legitimate, but in the end, just small things.
We’ve driven and camped a few thousand miles over the last three months, through multiple states and multiple stops, and reached this part of our destination. So that now the beach is just another checkpoint on the road of our life and vision. Things have not gone perfectly (when does life ever?), and Grace and I have faced some trials and tribulations on this journey – but nothing that couldn’t be fixed and re-routed to get back on the road.
All these beach uncertainties have made me think of other uncertainties I have overcome in my life. If I had bailed on my personal vision, several years ago, to learn how to social dance, then I would have bailed on the experiences and self-fulfillment I have received via dance. If I had not ventured out into the meetup and dance world, then I would not have had the opportunity to, in some way, be associated with you and perhaps to even influence your dance (hopefully in a positive way). You and I could not have come into contact if I had retreated from my vision. I may have never met Grace (we met at an event, and I taught her to blues dance). Whether we have come to know each other (or not) personally, we were at some point in the past given an opportunity to connect, share something in common, and experience some time together – maybe even for a moment.
That seems pretty fantastic to me. To get here today in this moment, it took all of us having a vision, a dream, a bucket list (whatever you want to call it), perhaps a few self-pep talks, and a little bit of faith to overcome our uncertainties to learn to social dance. The opportunity to connect and overcome our fears presented itself, so we clicked and said “yes” to a vision, a journey, an experience. For this, I’m thankful.
I don’t know how you’re doing today, but I write this despite having many of my own trials, tribulations, and uncertainties. That I have survived to make it to today (on this beach in Baja), is perhaps a miracle – or perhaps if we are wise enough to consider absolutely everything a miracle, maybe it’s just life. No matter what it is, I’m thankful.
Question: Is there a fear that is preventing you from fully living and grasping each day that you are given? Are you navigating that fear? How is it going?
Keep dancing,
Kevin
“Do not indulge in dreams of having what you have not, but reckon up the chief of the blessings you do possess, and then thankfully remember how you would crave for them if they were not yours.”
―Marcus Aurelius, "Meditations"
“There are two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle”. –Albert Einstein