Musings at Altitude

I’m struggling right now.  Mentally struggling.  Creatively struggling.  Trying to fit things together that just don’t seem to fit.  Trying to figure out why people make decisions or decide on paths when those decisions are based on incomplete data or completely biased information.  Working through my emotions when I am affected by those decisions or excluded from the discussion or dialogue that should occur.  Wondering why so many people in this world feel like they have a clue when they don’t necessarily have one, and wondering why folks work the backchannels to achieve some ill defined goal that then assuages their own ego but ultimately creates long term havoc for those that may thus be affected.

When I start struggling like this, for a few days I can’t focus enough to complete tasks and I can’t create enough to achieve closure on things I’m working on.  When I start down a particular path in these times, desperately trying to launch some positive emotion and trying to find an anchor that’s not based on the struggles and concerns, I always get yanked back to those things that don’t make sense and spin further into the oblivion of questions that don’t really have and may not deserve answers.

When I get in this “woe is me” state, something always happens that sparks a rebound.  Someone will make a statement or some action will be taken that changes the quicksand of emotions to stairs of renewed passion, and the climb back up to a forward thinking, forward dreaming and forward moving state will be fast.

I’m desperately seeking that spark now.  I need that smack across the head that says that things don’t always have to make sense and I don’t always have to be part of that decision making conversation.  I need that gentle (and sometimes not so gentle) reassurance that whatever decision was made and whichever path is ultimately taken will in the end result in blessings of some fashion.

And it will come.

It may very well be with that next phone call or that next email or that next hug or that next, “How are you doing?”

I certainly hope so.

I don’t like being in a funk.

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Just after midnight, in the midst of an incredibly restful sleep, all in our house woke up to the flash of lightning, the crash of thunder, and the pounding of pellet sized hail hitting the house!

For about 20 minutes, it was one heck of a storm!

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When we were up in Alaska last weekend, on the second day of fishing one of our team members and one of our guides caucused together and decided that we wouldn’t pack a lunch, but instead catch a fish and cook it on the river banks.  That seemed like a pretty safe thing to do with our success the day before, but it certainly didn’t find favor with the owner of the lodge and the guy ultimately responsible for showing us a good time in the village and on the river.  He never went out without lunch, just in case the fish weren’t there.  But since the two “lunch planners” were so excited about the feast they would prepare on the river banks, he went along with it, although reluctantly.

So we struck out from the lodge that Saturday morning and went upriver, and fished for a while at the first site we came to.  That site had been fairly successful the day before, giving us 11 sheefish, and giving us quite a few smiles.  Here’s one of them:

But on this particular Saturday, we got skunked by the sheefish.  It was quite a bit warmer than the day before, and all kinds of theories were thrown around.  For one, the fish may have moved out into the middle of the river where it was cooler and we couldn’t reach them from the bank.  Or another, the fish may have now moved further upriver, and we had caught the tail end of the wave the day before.  Or maybe, just maybe, they just weren’t hitting the lures that morning!

So after fishing for a while with no success, we secured our lines and headed upriver, and instead of fishing off the bank this time, we put a few people on each of two boats and got out to the middle of the river to take our chances there.  All of us knew it would take about two hours to cook the fish once we actually caught one.  But we had to worry about catching one first…no need to worry about cooking time if we had nothing to cook!

As it approached noon, and after we had no better luck in the new location, our guide and fishing guru of that river told me to give him my lure.  He swapped mine out to a heavier and greener “crocodile”, and he told me, “Cast it right there.”  He pointed to the exact spot he wanted me to hit.  I looked at him with suspicion, having an entire morning of unsuccessful casts to convince me that the fish just weren’t there on that day.  But because I had seen him do near miraculous things on previous trips up that river, I quickly turned and obeyed his command.  I got pretty close to where he was pointing, and within seconds I felt the hit of a sheefish.  I looked at him and smiled, and then “set that hook” so we’d have lunch to eat!  About a minute later, we had a 15 pound sheefish in the net, and soon thereafter, we headed in to the shore to start the two hour cooking cycle.

My skeptical obedience was rewarded with an awesome lunch two hours later:

Since last weekend, I’ve relived those moments many times to folks all across this country.  I’m still amazed that after fishing for so long with absolutely no reward, the one and only time “the master” took charge and specifically directed our activities, the entire team was fed.

So today at church, our Pastor preached from Luke 5, with a timely focus on verses 4-7:

When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into deep water, and let down the nets for a catch.”

Simon answered, “Master, we’ve worked hard all night and haven’t caught anything.  But because you say so, I will let down my nets.”

When they had done so, they caught such a large number of fish that their nets began to break.

So they signaled their partners in the other boat to come and help them, and they came and filled both boats so full that they began to sink.

Our pastor talked about Simon’s skeptical obedience.  In those waters, at that time of day, fisherman typically rested and ate.  After a long night of hard work, they were tired and probably very hungry, and yet Simon did exactly what the Master commanded.  And because of that obedience, they were rewarded with a great catch.

In both cases, skeptical obedience was rewarded with a great catch.  Mine occurred upriver from the tiny village of Kiana, Alaska.  Simon’s occurred in the Sea of Galilee.  Mine occurred when I listened and obeyed a man who knew the river, knew the fish, and knew our anxiety to turn from just fishing to somehow catching some lunch.  Simon’s occurred when he listened and obeyed a man who knew his heart, who knew this world, and knew the exact miracle that was needed to turn Simon from a fisherman to a catcher of men for the Master.

That section of scripture ends at Luke 5:10-11 —

Then Jesus said to Simon, “Don’t be afraid; from now on you will catch men.”

So they pulled their boats up on shore, left everything and followed him.

I shouldn’t be amazed anymore when something that happens in my life is then reinforced with a lesson learned in a very spiritual way.  It’s certainly not coincidence.

In this case, that lesson was obedience.

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I got home late last evening after being on the road for all but about 6 hours of the last 17 days.  Even though it was well past her self-defined, very early bed time, my 15 year old came out to give me a hug, before I even put my bags down.  That was nice.

After putting my bags down though, she wanted to talk, but I had to use the bathroom.  When I told her that, she said, “Well fine; I’ll just go to bed then.”

I said, “Good night,” and off she went.

As she left, I fully realized that any hope of a peaceful and relaxing morning the next day had just been pushed aside by putting off till that time the 17 day stream of information that my 15 year old obviously had waiting to gush out to me whenever I’d give her that chance to spew.

So, this morning, the fire hose of information started.  Most of the news was hockey related, and she needed to let me know what my schedule would be from now till the end of the year based on the games that she was most certainly going to attend.  She also wanted to talk about the vacant captain position, and who was most likely to get that coveted “C” on their jersey with Joe Sakic now retiring.  And she wanted to talk about the recent trades and tell me who joined the team, although I had no clue who they were and certainly no understanding of how they’d help the Avs climb up from the bottom and get back to playoff contention.  And she’s a world class talker, rivaling the fastest speakers with the most packed in information, leaving her listeners swirling in amazement and confusion, trying to pick up on every third word and not have to ask her to repeat what she just said.

As she kept spewing, I kept doing my early morning tasks, listening just enough to say, “I really am”, as she accused me of not listening, and wondering when in the world the encyclopedia of all things related to current hockey news would stop talking.

The education process continued through the stop at the cleaners, the breakfast at a local restaurant, a visit to our local Best Buy, all the way till the time we dropped her off at her baby sitting job that would last for the rest of today.  At one point, she even mentioned that we have to take her to Barnes & Noble’s today to get her the latest book on hockey.  OHHHH  MYYY GOSHHHHH.  That’s the last thing I need right now…her brain packed with more stats, more trivia, and more passion for hockey.

I do love my 15 year old’s passion for hockey.  But if it weren’t for this baby sitting job today, my head would have exploded by now.  My slightly bigger than pea size brain is barely big enough to handle the information I need to live day to day.  When all this hockey news and information is slipped into every vacant crevice of my brain, I feel the pressure building and the brain cells numbing.  It wouldn’t take much of that hockey information to prevent me from understanding or remembering anything else that I need to do.

I must admit, I have a much greater respect for my wife now, who obviously is the willing (or maybe unwilling) target for this incredible barrage of information when I’m not here.  Fortunately, my wife remembers the most mundane events of our life, and I’m sure she has vast chasms of space in her brain that can be filled by this rapid fire launch of hockey news.  She’s my only hope, because as long as she remembers something that was said in the current or previous spew, we have a remote chance of not having to hear it all again.

So now I’m resting.  Catching my breath.  Dumping much of what I just learned about the latest hockey news to make room for the most certain torrent of new information that she will want to educate me with this evening when she returns.  With the help of some good tunes, candles, and blogging therapy, I’ll be ready for her regardless of what time she gets back. 

Who knows?  I may even go out on the web and find some remote hockey fact and surprise her with my knowledge.  Of course that will be a challenge she won’t back off of, and it will increase the spewing and mind numbing flow of information until she once again claims the title and crown for being the “King of All Hockey Knowledge” in our household.

I better not to do that.

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I’ve spent the last 10 days averaging 4 hours of sleep per night, with my days equally divided between two very different locations.  The activities in both locations were uniquely meaningful, leading me to stay up late into the night digesting all the things that happened during each individual day.

The first 5 days were spent on a classic business development trip, enjoying the serenity of the far north, one of the most peaceful and beautiful places on this earth.  There, the sun didn’t really set, but it faded to that grayish hue that drops you into a trance like state that lasts till your body says, “go to bed”, while your mind says ‘keep on looking”.

The next 5 days were spent in the exact opposite setting of our nation’s capital, with increasingly warm temperatures, traffic congestion beyond description and anxiety driven by the stress of jobs and the critical importance of the otherwise routine happening of the various offices of government.

Both environments though were intoxicating.  One because of the staggering peace that I found in the company and the environment, and the other because of the bugle screaming “charge” in a business battle that could ultimately (through ill informed acts of legislation) take away the accelerant to growth that resulted in much needed benefits to the owners of our company.

I spent an equal amount of time smiling in both environments – the first because of the connection that our visitors made to our real mission as a business, and the second because of the dysfunction of our opponent matched up against our intense preparation and response to their pre-determined attack.

As I sit here now at 37,000 feet, the lack of sleep is catching up with me, but the smile is still there.  In these 10 days, we showed several people in this rapidly shrinking world what it’s like to be connected to the land for your very survival.  And then we showed several other people the fight that we’ll bring if they prolong this attack and try to limit or deny our ability to deliver ever increasing benefits to those very people that are intimately connected to that land.

So I’ll be home tonight, still stoked by 10 days of serenity followed by intensity, and I’ll finally fall into a deep sleep.  And I bet I’ll dream of the unmistakable quiet and unarguable beauty of the lands north of the Arctic Circle, transitioning quickly to the uncomfortable tension and unbearable chaos of our nation’s capital.

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I’ve gone from the serenity of the Kobuk River to the insanity of Washington DC.  We spent today wandering the “halls of Congress”.  [OK…that’s a little misleading…because most of the business is done in the buildings around the Capitol, and then they do the public debate and take the votes in the wonderful theater of the Capitol.]  Actually, we wandered the halls of the buildings around the Capitol, and met with those elected individuals whose actions (through the language they insert into legislation that they create) can change the way we do business overnight…literally…it’s often times that easy.

Many of the actions taken by our elected officials arise from faulty information and severe bias, which lead to flawed legislation and repercussions undefined till years later when the full force of those actions are realized in the often unintended and certainly unpredicted consequences of those affected by the debates and then votes of today.

In our democracy, we certainly have checks and balances so that no one leg of our government has the ability through its sole authority to do things indiscriminately to our citizens.  But that certainly doesn’t mean that folks can’t be hurt, and those most dependent on the actions of our balanced branches of government are often times left to the mercy of those uninformed or completely biased law makers.

So our job is to educate those who have one leg of that balance in their legislative hands.  Our job is to create visibility to the benefits that are obtained through specific legislation and provide forward looking awareness about the consequences of Congressional action when those ultimately responsible may not have any clue about what those consequences could be.

In this case, all we seek is status quo…don’t change a thing…take a closer look…get a deeper understanding of what those past laws were enacted to achieve…keep the opportunity alive to deliver even further against the promise that was ordained when the legislation was written and implemented in law to begin with.

And more than anything else, don’t fear, criticize and react negatively to success.  And don’t sneak in any riders in other forms of legislation to change things without that full understanding and very emotional debate.

Instead, see the benefits from the eyes of those who have benefitted.  Hear the stories of those who have achieved some form of success that may not ever have occurred otherwise.  Feel the hugs and embraces of those whose lives have been permanently and positively impacted by the goodness of past legislation.

And then smile for being the kind of leaders and the special legislators that this country needs right now.

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As we were fishing on the Kobuk River, our guide and fishing mentor would constantly remind us to “set your hook”.  His soft and gentle tones at the beginning would grow to a louder reminder as a few would get away.  And by the afternoon of the first day and all the second day, with each lost opportunity, you could count on a robust shout of “SET YOUR HOOK!!!!!”

As the shouts grew louder, others would preemptively shout it as well, respectfully mocking our guide, and knowing that he was absolutely right each time we got outsmarted by the fish!

One of those that shared the journey with us this year, sent me an email this morning musing about how great a metaphor this is for life.  Those things that we chase the hardest will only be caught if we “set that hook”.

When that hook is set, hang on for dear life.  And as you reel in that biggest of all fish, cherish those moments.  Those big fish only pass by every now and then.

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While we were up in the 400 person village of Kiana, we didn’t have many of the things that we often partake of in our local communities in the “lower 48”, or as some say, “down in America”.

We didn’t have this:

Nor did we have this:

Nor this:

In fact, we didn’t have fast food, or movie theaters, or shopping malls, or paved runways, or banks.

But we did have something much, much more.

We had this:

And this:

And this:

And this:

After 2 days of breathing wonderfully pure air, listening to nature’s orchestra, partaking of God’s provisions, and viewing beauty beyond belief, I’m now back amongst the masses, listening to the planes taking off and the trucks rumbling by, eating quickly prepared and mostly unhealthy food, and already stressing about the happenings of work that are ahead this week.

But I’m smiling.  And I know the folks around me are wondering what in the world I could be smiling about late at night in an airport terminal.

It’s the memory of the pondering, the grocery shopping, the not so fast food eating and the staring at God’s magnificent creation.  It’s the conversation amongst old and new friends, the wisdom shared by our elders, and the lessons learned about things that aren’t very often done in my life today.

This was a special trip, at a special time, with a special message.

And I listened.

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I’ve been able to share these last couple of days north of the Arctic Circle with friends, both old and new.  The serenity of the surroundings was often times replaced with the competitiveness of fishing, but these smiles tell it all:

What an incredible trip!

PS.  I hope my 15 year old recognizes that I wore an Avs shirt on this trip!

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There’s something very magical about a fishing trip when the individuals that rarely or never fish end up catching the first and then most fish!

This picture says it all!

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