I confess, I spent the weekend, or a good part of it, at the cottage.
And while we were there we did indeed build a fire by the shore and roast marshmallows and watch the sun set and the stars come out, because that’s what you’re supposed to do at the cottage, right?
And while there were no screens around at that time, the constant lapping of the water against the shore was sound and movement enough to keep distracting me. Well, it would have been if it wasn’t part of what I was hoping to concentrate on.
I was hoping for a quiet bit of time with my mind at rest, and since it won’t ever stop going, I was happy to have it go on and on with the task of being in the moment and the surroundings I had at my disposal.
But of course …
My mind continued to churn through things even as I watched the water.
I thought about the time that has passed since we bought this place, not a long time, eight months and a week as of today.
And since those eight months have included parts of three seasons and the middle one was winter, I thought about the changes that the water in our bay had gone through.
Well, yes, at times. But peaceful at other times. Frozen solid sometimes, we even walked out on it once or twice. No, we didn’t go out far, it wasn’t one of our colder winters.
We came to the cottage almost every weekend throughout the fall and winter, and now we’re here in the spring. We swam in the bay last autumn, when it was warm enough, and even a couple of times when it wasn’t warm enough, but we’re crazy, foolhardy Canadians and we do stuff like that.
But the water …
The water is constantly changing its mood. It can be like glass one day and then be a pounding surf the next. It can be sweet and decorated with ripples that catch the sun one morning and then have a skiff of ice over the whole bay the next morning.
There are days when huge pans of ice float past and you’re tempted to jump on to see where they might take you, or on other days big burgy bits that have broken off a rocky shore somewhere go sailing by like they’re on a mission to discover new lands for her majesty to conquer.
Through all these changes, watching the changing mood and consistency of the water, it was easy to forget that at no time did the bay actually change what it was.
And it is the same for us. While we squirm and twist and try to make things right and perfect in our ADHD lives, at no time do we become anything less or more than we are.
We are …
We are people who have some problems as a result of a disorder that messes with our moods and our consistency.
But we will continue to be people who have lives and likes and interests and people we love and who love us. We will continue to struggle to accomplish what often feels like keeping our heads above the surface and not drowning, but we will not drown, we might suffer setbacks, but we will continue to be the water that fills the basin that our lives define.
And sometimes we will be chunks of ice sailing out to discover, and sometimes we will be helpless passengers hoping that the pan we stepped onto will take us somewhere safe if not great.
So if you’re looking for a Zen way to think of your life that will help you keep your sanity and maintain your calmness, consider being the water. Contemplate the flow, the endurance no matter what the weather of life brings.
And when no one is paying attention … CANNONBALL!!!!