SUP BOARDING Archives - Page 2 of 8 -

Letting Go Versus Giving Up

By Simone Lipscomb | June 22, 2013

The past two mornings on the river paddling my SUP board brought unexpected encounters. Two days ago I was squatting down on my board as it glided under an overhanging oak tree limb. An owl hooted directly above my head. And later the same (I suppose) owl flew across the river in front of me. A messenger perhaps.

That same day I officially met the osprey chicks, one of whom is now adult-sized and almost fledged with adult feathers. I also met her sibling, a week or so behind in development. Both perched with their parent on the nest as I paddled by them.

Today I heard a splash as I paddled by a pier and glanced over to see a rather large, brown triangular head swimming for shore. I felt a little shudder as I quickly moved past, thinking it was a water moccasin, but I decided to turn around and peek. I saw a squirrel, sopping wet, sitting on the dock shaking water from his fur. My laugh echoed from the banks of the river. It was a good, belly laugh.

And later, as I was headed upriver and nearing home, I heard a most raucous noise. I stopped paddling and looked high up in a pine tree from where the noise originated. The source of the noise was three great blue herons in a brawl. Evidently the nearly adult-sized baby was throwing a hissy-fit and was hysterical…another encounter that made me laugh.

This has been a difficult week of frustration, grief….sadness over the course humanity has set regarding the health of our planet. No matter what those of us working for change do, it never seems to be enough to create positive change that will truly make a difference. I see apathy and greed growing while suffering increases in humans, wildlife, and wild places.

At one point this week I realized it was time to let go. Not give up, but let go. This came after working on a design for a new business card. In the process I realized I really didn’t know what to call the work I do and this led me to go deeper within myself. It seemed as if the pent up frustration and grief needed space to simply be.

The Unknown can be a scary place. Several of my friends commented that they too are struggling with direction and a feeling of treading water, not knowing what to do next. Maybe it’s time to let go, not in an attempt to give up but simply as a way to listen and let the space bring answers and guidance.

My time in nature nurtured me so deeply as I dealt with big emotions and important questions. The soggy squirrel, the fussy teenage heron and the ospreys and owl gifted me with laughter and beauty. The experiences gave me hope that all is not lost on our water planet…not yet.

The message of the owl? Owls see in the dark so perhaps it’s time to look into the darkness happening on our beautiful planet and know that there is a way through. Even though we cannot always see, we will find our way as we open our hearts and minds to nature and reconnect with it. Perhaps nature itself will guide us if we listen, observe and then take action.

Staying Present with the Big Picture

By Simone Lipscomb | May 22, 2013

It was absolutely still when I pushed my SUP board out into the slowly flowing river. No wind stirred the air. There was not a ripple on the water’s surface. The warm, humid air hugged me as I began my warm up.

Clouds and blue sky reflected underneath me in the mirror-like surface of the river. It was as if I was paddling within the clouds and sky. This phenomena has happened before and it always puts me into a meditative state. Today I felt as if I was steering a barge in Ancient Egypt, working magically to travel through the sky on a boat.

And yet I was very present this morning. The slight hum of water as it curled around the carbon fiber blade and shaft was felt in my hands. Droplets of sweat formed at the base of my skull and followed every vertebrae down my spine. Somehow, in this altered state of meditative paddling, I was deeply aware of my body as well as the little turtle sunning on the stump, the pelican flying beside me, the osprey arranging a stick in her nest….the mullet splashing to my right. And then it hit me: I was paddling a straight path.

Now this might not sound like a big deal but over the past several months I have struggled with zig-zagging and noticed that one side zigged more than the other. I changed my board fin and changed it back. I micr0-analyzed my paddle stoke–entry, position, pull…everything and it got worse. The more I focused on it the more pronounced it became until I felt like my board was possessed by a drunken spirit.

In this morning’s state of hyper-awareness I thought to myself, what’s different? Why am I going straight NOW? And then I knew. I had been gazing into the far water and horizon as I paddled this morning…keeping my head up. Before I was watching my stroke, keeping my vision very close to the board and surrounding water and it created a ‘situation.’

Then I realized that my paddling mirrored my life quite perfectly. I have been frustrated and felt like I was going in circles with my work. I kept focusing on the many environmental issues of destruction, death, neglect without plugging into the bigger view. I believe it is important to own our grief and sadness and allow it to prompt us to take action. But we must keep the whole picture in mind so we don’t become overwhelmed or lost.

Then I had a dream where my friend Ray told me he would help me see the sea turtle tracks in the dark, that he’d walk with me. Since he’s working out of the country I chalked it up to it being just a dream. But then he emailed me writing that he was purchasing a set of night vision binoculars that I, along with the turtle team I’m a part of, could use. This is helpful when babies are hatching since we can’t use any lights and our job is to ‘see’ them safely to the water. If any wander off over the beach we can more easily find them now.

Later this afternoon, many pieces came together for me. I’m not alone in the environmental work coming through me. There is support that will help me see through the dark unknown. It may come in the form of a stranger commenting on a blog post or a friend providing fiscal support, book selling, photographs used to educate the public, a pair of night vision binoculars that will help me ‘see in the dark.’ The metaphor is definitely not lost on me.

The work of writing and photography is by nature a solitary business. It takes a tremendous amount of time to organize, stay clear and focused and now…complete a photography book I started a while back. It’s easy to get myopic vision and see only this little space and time around me. But when I take the time to look up, to look out, I see the big picture. The key is to dance in both places at once.

Afternoon on the River

By Simone Lipscomb | May 19, 2013

My SUP boarding workout is usually early in the mornings. It is like meditation and a core workout at the same time. For some unknown reason, I decided to paddle this afternoon amid boats and boat wakes and loud music pouring from large speakers aboard boats. What was I thinking?

But after over three miles downriver with chaos, I decided to paddle upriver from my launch beach, where motor boats cannot go.

It was the right decision. Calm water, warm afternoon light, not a human around….no houses. Just me and my board and a pair of wood ducks.

I felt myself open to the beauty of the quiet part of the river. It was magical and delightful. The only thing that could have made it not so great was seeing a big alligator. I have seen small ones downriver where it is wide and there is plenty of space for us all. But up here in the very narrow part it might present a problem. So I am practicing my scary face just in case. Do you think it will scare them away?

The Creative Process

By Simone Lipscomb | May 3, 2013

It’s messy, never linear, filled with interruptions and unexpected flashes of inspiration. And unexpected help…I cannot forget his help or Stanley would protest. My orange tabby friend is negotiating co-author status on the new book in process.

Today’s substantial rainfall prompted me to hunker-down and bring the outline of my book into form and to set up the ebook formatting…not my favorite part of the creative process….but a necessary one. The energy of this project is pushing me to create the form that will contain it. I got a good lesson in that ability last night.

I sat on the front row of an intimate Ben Taylor concert and marveled at his talent…not just his songwriting, singing and guitar-playing but the ability to create through electronic gadgetry. Observing his process inspired me to move forward courageously. He balanced the music flowing through him with knowledge of how to operate his toys. It seemed a perfect balance of passion and flow.

And speaking of flow–during a break from the torrential water pouring from the sky, I needed a break so took a walk and saw the river near my home flowing wildly. If I wasn’t concerned about high bacteria counts that comes with flooding, I would have been tempted to don a life vest and take my SUP board out for a ride. And while I made the correct decision for safety, a girl can still dream of racing downriver using her paddle only for steering. Alas, my project called me back home and I resisted the temptation to allow distractions to change my focus.

*a little friend greeted me on my walk to the river*

During this rainy day, fits of writing and organizing the project were interrupted with much-needed breaks such as my walkabout. These times of movement and stimulus, away from the computer, kept the process fresh and exciting. And while assistance is always appreciated, I must say that it’s not always helpful. And yet having my arms filled with a loving little helper, the creative process was boosted to greater levels. Stanley approved of the music and dozed happily as I engaged in the process of birthing a new book.

Outsmarting the Wind

By Simone Lipscomb | April 18, 2013

At 6.15am my eyes popped open and I evaluated the wind situation quickly by glancing out the French doors. Perfectly calm…for now. I knew that sunrise would bring more wind. It is normal for winds to increase as the earth heats during the day but today–when the forecast called for 15 to 25 mph winds with 30 mph gusts–I knew my window for SUP boarding on the river (comfortably) was small. So I raced to get ready and was on the water by 6.45am.

*Upriver, where I live, the river is narrow and calm*

Paddling so early almost insures a visit with the river before human activity begins, while it is quiet and peaceful. The two wood duck couples I greeted were not happy about the intrusion on their morning ritual. But it was glorious and I sang apologies for my disturbing their morning.

It was mostly calm in the narrow part of the river with ripples from gusts barely registering on the water’s surface. Green was exploding around me, reflecting in the water and filling my vision with beauty. As I warmed up I felt my relief to be back on the water. Joy at feeling my muscles find their strength. Delight as I got to my cardio pace. YES!

Mullet were splashing so close to me that I wondered if there was such a thing as mullet armor or if I could invent it. Humorous perhaps but some of those fish get ambitious in their leaps. No joke!

Great blue herons fished peacefully along the banks. Green herons squawked, annoyed at my intrusion. The large pond slider on the log under the bridge was ousted by the tiny baby turtle. Both accepted me as a friend and showed no protest at my passing.

When I got to Bemis Bay, where the river opens up into a larger body of water, the wind was churning and gave me a good push. How nice to have this help. But I knew that upon return the wind would be gathering strength and I’d be facing it. But it was so worth the effort to be there, to be present on the Magnolia River.

On I paddled, now pushed by the gaining wind and happy to be sliding through a spring-time sunrise on my board, my ‘friend.’

When I got to my two mile marker–a tree that leans over the river, across from where the osprey perches in the cypress tree–I turned around and retrieved my water bottle to replenish my fluids. As I floated, beauty of the wild part of the river tapped at my heart and I returned the greeting by whispering words of gratitude.

The paddle back up river presented a kaleidoscope of patterns. Colors of gray, blue, white and green danced on the contours of small waves and I was lost in that world of shape and hue and wished I could paint what I saw. Then the sun broke through but it was a white sun, more like a moon glade and I paddled into the shimmering silver sunrise and gusting, whipping wind. I was sweating from the pace set but grateful to feel so present, so here in this body, and so surrounded by nature at its finest along the Alabama Gulf Coast.

Later in the day the blow lived up to the forecast. So glad was I that I had almost outsmarted the wind. Never would there be reason to claim a true one-upping something so big as the wind as there is always tomorrow….

It is so calm upriver....such a lovely way to end my workout and morning visit with the river and its residents — *It is so calm upriver….such a lovely way to end my workout and morning visit with the river and its residents*