During my standup paddleboard outing this morning, my companion found herself in the middle of the lake without a paddle. Somewhere in between doing our yoga poses, it had silently glided overboard.
I loaned her mine as we started our search, circling the nearby area to no avail. I couldn’t believe how calmly she accepted it was lost as we gazed across the choppy waters to our launch point. The winds were still making paddling a bit of a challenge.
I looked back at the single paddle for the two of us and I told her to keep it. I had no problem laying on top of the board and pretending to be a surfer chasing the next big wave.
And so we started our journey back to shore, letting go of the missing paddle that was supposed to float. A few strokes in, I saw something pale yellow bobbing up ahead – right at my eye level. “The paddle,” I cheered.
In the afternoon, I went into my home office to write. I had a sense that today was the day to open the piece I had been struggling with for months, which I haven’t touched for weeks. And it was – something was different, something clicked. I got further in this new draft than in the dozen or so before it.
Just like with the missing paddle, in letting go, the perspective that was needed emerged. By letting go instead of forcing, I am now finding my way both in that challenging piece and back here on my blog after quite the hiatus.