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Navigating transitions



The march into fall has more power to signal a transition than any other change in the seasons.


The cooler nights of late August and early September creep unsteadily, and then, wham, the autumn wind is running upside the cottage and slamming the unsuspecting – those lulled by the brilliant sunshine into thinking the weather is in a kind of stasis.


I point this out because I was recently hoodwinked.


After a summer of getting my sea legs, I was brazenly hotdogging the Lake Huron waves on my paddle board recently ... until I got slapped down. Literally.


My board nosed sideways, parallel to the waves, dumping me into the chilly, roiling water. I couldn't believe they did that.


I say “they” because when you get to know the lake on a daily basis, you tend to assign it human characteristics. You think you know Huron, you think you've established a relationship, based on experience.


But anthropomorphism has its limits. In this case the waves, which I had respected all summer long and which I thought I now knew – and might even outwit – threw me for a loop.

Casualties included my Google 15 hat , a memento from my daughter's brief stint at Google back in 2013, the company's fifteenth anniversary. (If you find it on the Michigan shoreline, let me know.)


Then there was the drowning of my Fitbit, which would have had a chance, but the waves kept knocking me down in the shallow water and I couldn't keep my arm raised long enough. It remains in a bag of rice, its resurrection doubtful.


And my left knee took a little twist as I clawed to grab the board and my foot remained wedged between two rocks. It's still a bit out of whack, but gradual exertion is bringing it back around.


So I've agreed to let the lake be its ever-changing self. And to acknowledge the limits of my power to resist its momentum.


I'm back to respecting Huron's transitions as they come.


 

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4 Comments


Sharon Emery
Sharon Emery
Sep 25, 2022

Sharon responding:

Transitions can be so hard, and you’re navigating one of the most challenging!

I love that you can see the whole picture - the joy you had and the new role that joy has prepared you for.


Wishing you all the best on what will be a life-changing journey for all.

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Clarice Joos
Clarice Joos
Sep 23, 2022

Some people are dragged kicking and screaming into the march toward fall but I’d be happy to march double-time. We have a lake house too, and while the lakefront looks bare this time of year with all the boats and docks pulled in, the amazing color on the trees and that crisp, cool, smoky-smelling air more than makes up for it. Bring on “swetta weatha!” I hope your knee and your Fitbit both recover quickly and completely.

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Sharon Emery
Sharon Emery
Sep 25, 2022
Replying to

Sharon responding:


I hear you! But sometimes I want to hold on a bit too long. 🤷🏻‍♀️ On to fall! With my knee intact, but as for my Fitbit… RIP. Hope you’re cozy in that sweater.

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Guest
Sep 23, 2022

Currently navigating-Parent -Child relationship changes. Wanted to plant my feet on the ground and just refuse this reversal. No, I don't accept that you need my help Dad, you are the most independent person I know, remember? It is heartbreaking and I want you to assure me its all ok. It took me a bit to realize this isn't just a small glitch that will pass, its the new reality. My dad is experiencing the early stages of memory issues-everyday tasks becoming extremely jumbled. Giving myself a moment or two(or three-hahaha) to adjust to this, Iam focusing in on rolling with the changes. As the seasons of our lives go "round and round" (Joni Mitchell lyrics) I can't help bu…

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