Letting Go of the Rope

A friend recently described the time she first tried to water ski. She got up after only a few tries and was delighted by her early success. As she lifted an arm to show her delight to the onlookers in the boat, she caught an edge and plummeted into the lake. While her story at this point was not unique, the fact that she continued to hold the rope after hitting the water was. For an embarrassingly long time, she was dragged in the water until it dawned on her to let go. Free, she floated to the surface where she could breathe again and the boat could turn and come back for her.

The story was told in a wonderfully self-deprecating way that drew everyone listening closer. Her story, and her willingness to share it, allowed us to admit the times when we, too, fell head first into the water after a brief moment of success, when we were guilty of holding onto the rope after falling, and when we nearly drowned. Fortunately, we also learned to let go of the rope and float up to where we could breathe again, and, through the grace of God, others could turn the boat and come back for us. 

Today is the first anniversary of a dear friend getting sober. My heart is full, not because she fell, but because she let go of the rope and returned to the surface. On behalf of her husband, children, and folks who love her, we in the boat are so happy to have her back!

Controlling the Sea

I recently visited a town on the Jersey Shore and was surprised to find the beach completely transformed. The town, like many others, was rocked by Super Storm Sandy, and the few remaining vacant lots are poignant reminders of the storm’s devastation. Someone, the state or the residents, decided to protect the town from another storm and spend millions of dollars to dredge sand from the ocean’s floor and add it to the shoreline. The result is a wide beach never seen before, and I couldn’t help but wonder how long it would last. I do not blame people for wanting to protect their homes, and I hope the enlarged beach will succeed, but I learned when riding waves in that very ocean that the sea will do what it will, and it’s best to accept its fickle moods.

Sitting on the dredged-up sand, I thought about all the times and ways I’ve tried to control the sea. For much of my life, I believed I was in charge and set out to make my world and those around me (myself, too) comply with my particular vision. I know I’m not unique. Everywhere I look I see people trying to make the world around them comply with their expectations. From the devout parents who make their son go through a painful procedure to “get the gay out of him,” to the spouse who stays in an abusive marriage in hopes she can make her husband kind and understanding, there are many less dramatic examples as well. Like the coastal town, we think we can control the sea, and I just don’t know if we can.

I meet with a group of people who remind me that “acceptance is the answer to all my problems,” and I believe that’s true. There’s a big difference between acceptance and complacency, but I will write about that when I figure it out. For now, I want to let the efforts of one small town remind me of the ways I have foolishly tried to manipulate the sea and try to live the rest of my life with greater acceptance of people, places, and things. Releasing my clenched fists, I want to receive things as they are.

Sountracks

If you were to put together a soundtrack of your life, what songs would you include? That opportunity has presented itself to me and it’s been an interesting adventure. 

Songs I loved as a child cause me to cringe and look to see if anyone’s listening. Yes, I liked the Carpenters, and Puff, The Magic Dragon still beckens me to the land called Honahlee. In time, I wandered down some colorful paths listening to Lynyrd Skynyrd and The Allman Brothers, but it was the sad music of James Taylor, Neil Young, and Jackson Browne that carved a deeper place in my soul. 

Mine is an eclectic soundtrack, one that includes popular songs that are obvious, sappy ones which make my cool friends roll their eyes, as well as “druggy tunes,” as my wife describes them, that bring me back to circle of friends in a dorm room I’ll never forget. There’s even church music and Broadway musicals which provide their own theologies.

As we return to the festive months of summer, music cascades over all we do, and I would invite you to consider your life’s soundtrack. What was your first “favorite song”? What was the song you always played whenever you hooked up a stereo? What did you listen to when you were hurt? What did you listen to when no one else was listening? What song did you play in your first car? What music makes you get speeding tickets? What did you dance to at your wedding? What song moves you to tears? What would you want played at your funeral?

More than reminiscing, soundtracks can teach about the various chapters of our lives. The most important people and moments of our lives are usually intertwined with the melodies and words of particular songs. Friends in school used to ask what 5 albums I’d take with me on a desert island (Which must have had electricity and a stereo)? Now I pose a similar question to you. What songs would you select if you were to make a soundtrack of your life?

Extra Credit: Make the soundtrack and play it for someone, offering commentary where appropriate.