Yoga

We had a mini yoga session one summer morning.  There were couples sitting out on their porch, sipping their coffee, cheering us on.  It's not an easy thing (yoga on a board, not sipping caffeine on a porch, that's easy), but we managed.  Sarah Anne is obviously a yoga master when it comes to paddle boarding.  And as you can see, I am not.  I did a few poses, but they weren't worthy of photo documentation.  

This Has Nothing To Do With Kayaking

   Forgive the blunt title, but I don't know how else to say it. And I wanted to make it clear before you read this and say, "What the hell?"  This post is not going to be as linear as the others.  It's going to be more of a stream of consciousness, so excuse me because I'm basically going to be rambling. 

   I am starting to think that I am going to start using this blog for telling stories about things other than kayaking.  I mean, of course stories about the yak will still be told.. but, maybe I could talk about other things, too.  That would make this blog less of a brand and sort of become more of a movement and much more personal than it has been.  I know I have shown emotion in previous posts and written about terribly sad things and such, but I mean I could talk about the real stuff if I wanted to. 

   Maybe I should give you some context here.  Two years ago it was suggested to me that I could have depression.  I laughed at the idea because it was so obvious.  People who don't have depression don't spend their nights begging that spirit in the sky to take them away, and then wake up disappointed when they're still here.  So yeah, I was depressed.  

   I like to think that I am a rather content person.  I am not fidgety and I don't treat my phone like an IV.  I am more than willing to lie in the grass for hours and watch the clouds roll by.  I do not get bored and I love a companion's company.  I am perfectly capable of being able to just be.  And for a while I thought that meant that I was happy.  Because, shouldn't contentment and happiness be the same thing?  Maybe it is more important to be content than it is to be happy; or maybe you need one to have the other.  I don't know anymore.  

   The thing people have to understand about depression is that it is not an easy fix.  The key to pulling oneself out of the dark is not the same for everyone and it is not the same key every time.  You can get yourself to happy times, but that same trick won't do it for you the next time.  After time and time of doing this, you can imagine how the motivation can disappear.  I was in better days for a while, long enough for me to get the crazy idea that it could stay like that.  Then one day I found myself with my x-acto knife pressed against my leg.  The shear fact that I was doing it scared me and I called my friend at 2 o'clock in the morning to meet me in my car.  We sat there for hours saying things that I didn't even know were inside of me and I cried and cried until I truly couldn't cry anymore.  I had my head pressed against the window and I remember looking over at her and seeing that she was crying more than I was.  I smiled a weak smile at her and said, "Please don't cry.  It's going to be okay."  She cried even more and said, "You're not the one who should be saying that right now."  When I told her I didn't know what to do, she gave the simple answer: Do what you did last time.  Oh, simple and sweet friend.  If only it was that easy.

   Depression is scary because it can morph so easily.  It lies to you and there is nothing worse than having something inside you that makes you believe you're better off dead.  You can be in the clear one moment and then drowning in the darkness the next moment.  Something like that does not have a simple solution.  You can't take a pill and call it a day.  They have medicines, yes, but all they do is compress the feeling.  You can still say "I want to die," but when you try to act on it, it feels like someone or something is holding you back.  Maybe that's not the worst thing, but it isn't good when you actually need to show emotion.  Emotion isn't a bad thing when it's not trying to kill you.  The medicine also compresses happiness.  You can still say "This is so fun, I want to smile," but something is holding you back.  

   Depression is also scary because it can make you feel badly for feeling badly.  It makes you feel selfish and whiney.  I have a wonderful family who loves me, wonderful friends who make me laugh, a wonderful boyfriend who accepts me for the toddler I am, and a wonderful cat who is always happy to see me.  But that doesn't mean I am happy.  I appreciate all of the wonderful things my life has been blessed with, but I do not appreciate the demon inside of me that thinks all of those things would be happier without me.  Depression lies.  And it is ruthless.  And it will spin something beautiful into something gray and lifeless.  

   When I found myself crying in my car at 3 in the morning, I don't know if I was more upset over the things I was saying, or the fact that I was upset again.  After I spent so much time putting myself together again.  Imagine if the king's horses and men did put Humpty Dumpty back together again.  They spent years gluing him back together, piece by piece and shard by shard.  When they finally finished, they rejoiced and celebrated! Can you believe it? They accomplished an impossible task.  But then, someone tripped and poor Humpty Dumpty fell to his death once again.  The horses and men stood, looking at the chips by their feet with their mouths hung open.  The idea of spending all of that time again had no luster at all.  But would it be worth it?  Or should they just go home and call it a day?

   

   Maybe #BackOnTheYak could be a metaphor of sorts.  Kind of like the phrase: Back on the wagon.  I'll post updates: happy ones and sad ones.  The ultimate goal is to get back on the yak.  That could be the yak, literally, or a different one.  The yak being a place of original and pure happiness.  Because I'd really like to get back there.. 

Georgia's Small Animals

   I'm going to be honest with you.  When I make a decision to travel somewhere, about 35% of that decision is based on if the location has a desirable kayaking spot.  In May, when I traveled to Austin, Texas, sure I wanted to see my family and go back to my Texas roots, but a part of it was because I thought we could all go kayaking under the Congress Avenue bridge (the kayaking didn't work out, but that's fine. It was still the best and Austin is now one of my favorite cities).  In June I traveled with my mom and my sister to Washington D.C. for my cousin's graduation.  I love America, I love my family, I love traveling.  But hey, how cool would it be to go kayaking down the Potomac River? That trip didn't work out either, looking back I easily could have grabbed Graham and headed down there one morning but oh well.  Maybe next time.  In July, I flew over to Atlanta, Georgia, to visit my father and his girlfriend.  A few days before I'm scheduled to get there, my dad calls me and asks me to research the Chattahoochee River.  I don't think too much of it.  Yes, I would love to go kayaking but if we don't get to it, it's no skin off my nose.  So I look into it anyway, the prices were a little high for my liking.  I let my father know, he doesn't think it's an issue.  "I've never done it before," he says, "It'll be fun.  Plus, it will be great for your blog."  I laugh and say okay.

   So I fly over to Atlanta, take a train to my dad's house, and we drive over to the river to rent the boats.  When we arrive, I become a tad disheartened.  The only kayaks that are available are sit-ins, and the majority of them don't have back rests.  Not to mention that there are plenty of people already out on this river.  There are huge groups of college kids celebrating the beginning of summer by tying together 20 inner-tubes.  The river is larger than what I had in mind, not to mention the strong current...

   Maybe I was just exhausted and over-rot from my extremely full day of travel, but kayaking down that river had to be one of the worst experiences of my life.  There was a moment, maybe longer than a moment, when I swore off kayaking from my life.  I threw my paddle down and said, "Never again."  My father was far ahead of me and I was struggling.  No matter how hard I pushed forward, I was going nowhere.  The current was too strong and everyone around me was too loud.  I go kayaking for the experience with nature.  I go for the feeling that I am getting an inside look at a special niche in the Earth that can only be accessed by kayaking there.  I go for the feeling of being completely immersed and overwhelmed by a sense of contentment and serenity.  I achieved none of these things on this kayaking trip.  A drunk abhorrence hung over the entire river, and I wanted no part of it.

   After a while, my father was becoming sick of my distaste and discomfort so he decided to lead me to a side stream that connected to the river.  It was narrower, smoother, and had a lovely canopy of trees; reminding me of home.  This was more like it.
   As we're paddling, I notice something moving in the water about six feet away.  Naturally, my first thought is that it's an alligator.  But it wasn't big enough and it was making more of a splashy movement.  Is it a snake? Maybe...
   "Dad," I say, "What is that?  A snake?"
   He paddles a little closer, but the creature starts heading right towards us.  We both stare at it, trying to get a better look at whatever this was.
   It seemed to click for the both of us at the same time.  I see the animal's little head poking above the water level and my dad and I both say, almost in unison, "A chipmunk!"
   His big brown eyes were flashing at Dad as if to say, "Please get out of my way.  I can't go back there, something wants to eat me."  His little paws were paddling along and he seemed to be using his tail to keep his balance.  Never in my life had I ever seen a chipmunk swim.  I didn't even know they could swim.  My dad was laughing and said, "That't the coolest thing I've ever seen.  Jillianne, I know it was rough earlier, but that made the whole trip worth it."

   As we go a little further, the river starts to get narrower and rocks start showing up in my path.  At a certain point, we reach a small set of rapids.  Water is rushing over the rocks and my dad is trying to find a way through.  "We could get out of the kayaks and pulls them through and keep going?" He suggested.  I paddle up to the rocks and sit to listen to the sound of the running water before saying, "I don't know, we could probably just turn around.  It's getting late anyway."
   "True.  Let's just sit for a minute," he smiles and says.
   He takes a sip of his water, looks around, and says to me, "Okay, when you get home, you have to tell your mother this."
   I laugh and say, "Why?"
   "I want you to say "Mom, Dad took me to this river and it was level five rapids! Mom, I was so scared" and then tell me what she says."
   I throw my head back laughing and say, "Yes, because this is so threatening.."

   So this kayaking trip wasn't what I thought it was going to be.  It wasn't the best experience I've ever had, but it certainly wasn't the worst.  I got to spend time with my father, I saw a chipmunk SWIMMING (seriously though, how cool is that?), and I got to kayak in a completely new place.  Even though that trip was extremely... humbling, I am still a kayaker. 

Paddle Lo, Sweet Jellyfish

8:52 p.m. September 12, 2015
Logan: What time do I need to be there tomorrow?
Me: Maybe 9:30-10? The later it is, the choppier the water is
Logan: I'll probably leave my house at around 8:30
Me: Yeah, that sounds fine
Logan: Ugh I'm so excited. I think I'm going to go to bed right now so it will get here faster

My eyes open and I roll over to look at the clock.

9:10

   I blink at the time before I realize.. Logan will be here any minute. *Gasp* He could be here right now! Oh my God.  I leap out of bed and throw on some shorts.  My mother pokes her head in my door and says, "Sweetie, what time is Logan supposed to arrive?"
   I take a breath of relief and say, "I don't know, probably soon." I reach over my bed and look at my phone.

8:20 Logan: Well I'm leaving now
8:20 Logan: I'll see you in a bit
9:11 I'm like ten minutes away

   "Actually, he'll be here in ten minutes," I say with a smile.
   Mom nods and walks out.  I finish getting dressed before walking outside to get everything ready. I hear Mom call to me as I walk out the door, "Paddle and life vests are already in the car!" I turn around and sit in the kitchen with her and Kirby.
   Kirby is talking about the football games we missed last night and how his job "is really cutting into turn-up nights". I'm not paying attention, I just sit and watch out the window, waiting for Lo to pull up.
   I walk over into the dining room to look for my shoes when I see a car pull into the front circle.  A small squeal escapes my mouth and I smile over at my mother and say, "He's here."  She rolls her eyes as I dance out the door to give him a hug.
   "Welcome to my home!" I say as I wrap my arms around him.

   "Jillianne, do not go down Alligator Alley.  It's cold outside so they're probably all out and about enjoying this weather," my mother says as I fill up two water bottles.
   "I think it's the opposite," Kirby chimes in, "They don't like the cold."
   Mom gives him a glare and says, "No, there will be a ton of them, just waiting for a snack to drift by."
   Lo pipes in, "I actually think this guy is right.  They don't like cold. I think they'll just stay at the bottom."
   I laugh nervously as I search for the lids that go with the bottles.
   "Well, either way.." Mom can't finish her argument.

   During the drive to the launch, I give Logan the tour of my town; telling him which bank is mine, the school I went to, where Mom works, Jane Todd's house, and the beach.
   When we finally have the boats in the water, it's about 10:15.  I've been kayaking during this time before and I was nervous when I realized I would be doing it again today.  Normally at this time, the water starts to get wavy, making it difficult during certain stretches of the trip.  But today seemed to have a different aura about it.  The temperature was in the low 70s and there wasn't a cloud in the sky.  There was a nice breeze but it didn't seem to affect the water at all.  The water wasn't still, but it wasn't necessarily rough either, it seemed lovely.  For a normal September day in the South, it couldn't be any less normal.
   I push Logan out into the water and he tries to stay in place.
   "Paddle out into the opening," I say.
   "No, then I'll miss you. I'll sit and wait."
   I laugh and sit in my kayak, scooting along into the water.  Gliding past him, I head left out to the main water.  He trails behind me as I tell him which way the golf course is and which way we'll be coming back from, "Just so you know where you are," I smile at him.
   I look back and see Logan far behind.  I put my paddle down and fold my hands in my lap, listening to the cicadas' humming fill the air.  Normally in Mississippi, you can't see fall coming.  There is no transition, you go to bed one day in the summer and wake up the next morning in the winter.  Trees lose their leaves over night and what was once a lush green area becomes a dead brown spot all within the blink of an eye.  But on that abnormal September morning, I could feel fall approaching.  I looked up at the tops of the Pine trees that line the murky banks of this swamp and notice that the higher branches of needles have been dipped in shades of red and orange.  The majority of the tree is still green, and I think I probably wouldn't have noticed the change in color if I hadn't stopped to look.  Blades of grass that stick out above the water wave and dance as I drift, almost as if they are happy that I am back with them, enjoying this beautiful day in their company.
   Logan catches up with me and says, "I need to up my game so we can paddle together."
   I laugh and say, "I'll try to take it easy."

   We begin making our way through Alligator Alley and Logan comments on the beauty.  I nod but something next to me catches my eye.  At first I thought it was just a fish, but it was too white.  Then I thought it was a trash bag floating along, but when I focus on it through the dirty water, I realize: It's a jellyfish.  "Logan!" I yell. "Look! Oh my gosh! It's a jellyfish! What?! I've never seen one before! Why is it here! Logan, look! Oh my gosh! Do you see it? What on Earth? Can you believe it? A jellyfish, Logan! Look! Wait, oh my gosh, come back! I need a picture. Logan, do you see it?!"  I try to paddle back to find it as I whip out my camera.  It dances along through the water, twirling in circles and pumping up and down below me.  Logan makes his way over and watches it, not exactly sharing my same level of enthusiasm.  "How have I never seen one before?" I ask as I admire it from afar.
   Continuing down the alley, I spot another one. This one is red and much smaller than the last one.  Logan smiles and says, "Would you look at that?"
   As we paddle back around the island towards the house, Logan asks me how I know my way around so well, "Like, how did you find all of these little pathways and stuff?"  I tell him how when I first got my kayak, Trea and I went out here everyday and just took a different route each time.
   "So you mapped it out by just exploring?" he says.
   I smile, "Yeah.  I like it put that way."

   As we get closer to the launch, Logan grabs the side of my kayak and thanks me for bringing him out here.
   "I know how special this place is to you, and I appreciate the fact that you wanted to share it with me.  This has been wonderful, truly," he says with a smile before leaning over and giving me a kiss.  I smile and tell him that I hope he wants to come back sometime.
   We pull up to the launch and take a breath.  Logan sighs and says, "I don't want to stop, but I'm also really hungry."
   I laugh and suggest a good place for lunch.  I grab my paddle and look down into the water before I step out..
   And there, dancing above the ground in the 6-inch deep water that sits in between Lo and I, is a jellyfish.  My eyes widen and I smile, not having any words left to describe my joy.  Logan smiles at it and then smiles at me, saying, "What a perfect way to end this perfect trip."
 

Kayaking vs. Paddle Boarding

   Yesterday someone asked me how many times I went kayaking over the summer.  I cringed when I realized the answer.  Once.  Once! I went kayaking once over the summer.  But, in my defense, I went paddle boarding multiple times.  This doesn't make anything better and it leaves me feeling like I cheated on my beautiful Sun Burst.  I like to think I have a pretty good idea of who I am, and if there is anything that I am sure of in this life, it's that I was given a new life when I sat in my kayak for the first time and that my heart will always belong in one.  But lately, I have been spending more and more time with a paddle board.  I haven't been doing this because I think it is better than kayaking, it's just a completely different experience.  

   Before everyone starts thinking I am going to change this blog to "BackOnTheBoard", let me explain:

   The joys that come with kayaking have to do with comfort and versatility.  When you're on a kayak, you're able to go to all sorts of places.  The water conditions could be anywhere between the stillness of a bathtub to the anger of the Ocoee River, and you have a good chance of being okay while in a kayak.  There is also the perk of having that back rest; when you find yourself in the presence of true beauty, there is nothing stopping you from sitting back, folding your hands in your lap, and letting the world pull you along.  Finally, kayaks are safe and fast.  When I found myself face to face with an alligator while balancing on a paddle board, one of the first things that came to mind was my kayak.  A gator can flip a board with about the same level of struggle that comes with swimming.  A kayak gives you way more balance and control.  

   Paddle boarding is the opposite, but that doesn't make it superior or inferior in any way.  There is little comfort associated with paddle boarding, but there is liberation.  While you aren't able to recline and drift, you are able to stand and stretch your arms to the sky leaving you feeling like you have acquired some power to stand on water.  You can also fold your legs off the edge and just lie down (although I wouldn't recommend it, because you know, that's practically advertising yourself as gator bate) while watching the sky.  Being on a board also gives you quite the workout without feeling like one at all.  If you spend the entire trip standing, you're going to wake up the next morning with a sore tummy and some killer quads.  They also make it easy to slip into the water and slip right back on to the board.  If you fall out of a kayak, you have to do this kind of dance with it to get back in; a paddle board will stay with you as you easily pull yourself back up above the surface.  

   Both water sports have their ups and their downs.  I can call them both relaxing, but I could give two very different arguments for why that is.  At the end of the day, it depends on the person.  Both are enjoyable, both have their stress levels, and both have their beauty.  But when it comes down to it, I know where I belong.