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Readers of this Blog are by now aware that the Closer to God in a Kayak series ended, on August 31, 2010. Trips back to the sea buoy, although still proscribed by health concerns, should begin again soon. In the meantime, Tuesdays will, for the next several weeks, carry a post on my ruminations (written contemporaneously after kayaking trips that were otherwise devoid of reportable maritime incidents) while kayaking in the ocean. These thoughts or ruminations may or may not find favor with many readers, but thankfully there are lots of other things to read in the blogosphere. I’m hoping, though, that some will share my views and maybe take the time to let me know of their agreement – or disagreement.
SNOW DAYS
On completion of my daily rosary, which is always a part of my kayak trips, my mind is free to ruminate on many things – things that most of us fail to take the time to ponder amidst the cacophonous sounds of daily life and all those seemingly important things that dominate our time and attention. Florence King, in an article she wrote for National Review, entitled “The Examined Gesture,” called this failing of ours, “Americans’ war against the Socratic ideal of the examined life.” It was Socrates who declared: "The unexamined life is not worth living."
Since moving to Florida in 1973, I have lamented the absence of occasional “snow days.” Anyone who ever lived up north will recall how special a “snow day” was, especially when it caused the closing of schools. Those were the days when everyone was forced to stop and ignore all those very important things that were part of daily routines, and take a deep breath, relax, and realize that maybe all those things that regularly clogged our thoughts and actions were not so important after all: maybe we should think about, and even do, other things - at least while the snow piling up around us prevented us from continuing with those things that had seemingly become a part of our DNA. So my kayak trips have actually become my “snow days,” and I credit them with making me realize what is and is not important in my life and life in general.
My mother died when I was just about one year old, and my father’s mother, sister and brother all moved in with our family, which consisted of one brother, one sister, one father and me. Not given to reflection in those early days (even when it was snowing), not much is recalled about my early life. It was easy to stay busy, but being busy often prevents one from being overly inquisitive or introspective. Had regular solo kayaking been a part of my life much earlier, I’m convinced that today would find me a more intelligent and more interesting person. Maybe not.
