Windows of Opportunity ...

A word ... or a phrase ... pops up in a conversation ... and next thing you know, it's just turning up here & there ... in random conversations ... everywhere.  It always amuses me when that happens ... cuz I know that means that there's something there ... that I am supposed to be ... a-gettin' ...

Not yet ...

That's the phrase that turned up ... unexpectedly ... last week. 

At first it felt like a negative.  But it's not.  It's a word of hope ... of promise ... it's a window of opportunity.

Since the first uttering, "not yet" has found it's way into dozens of other conversations.  The context is always different.  Those offering it up have no idea that it's becoming the common denominator in my life right now.

Interesting. 

Anything's possible.  Just not yet.

Needless to say, it's sparked a bit of pondering on my part.  One thought has led to another ... and today as I've spent the morning de-tangling ... or maybe it's unraveling ... the myriad of unworking lights wrapped into the pre-lit Christmas tree ... there's been plenty of time to ... go there ...

Some really good things are happening right now.  In the lives of people that I care about a lot.  Really big things.  The kind of things that are the catalyst to change ... new beginnings .. fresh starts ...answered prayers.

As for me.  My things haven't been so big ... not yet ... but very cool nonetheless.

As I am unwrapping ... unclipping... the strands of burned out lights ... one limb at a time ... it occurs to me that the pre-lit Christmas trees are much like our lives ... these days.  They were invented to save us time ... to make things "hassle-free" ... to provide immediate gratification ... because society says that's what is real and of value.

Let's get it done ... fast.  So that we have more time ... to ... fill with ... nothing.  Always looking for something to bring meaning into our life ... rather than enjoying the little, everyday things ... the moments ... that turn into memories ...

Easy.  That's not what life's all about.  Not really.  It's a journey .. a process ... and each part adds meaning & value ...  if you skip ahead... you are bound to miss something ... something real .. genuine ... important.

Why are we in such a hurry?!? Important things always take time.


I don't want to miss anything ... not the challenges ... or the smiles ... or the setbacks ... it's all part of the adventure ... every bit of it.

Ahhh ... right on time ... Dan Fogelberg Same Old Lang Syne is on the radio ... a song about second chances ... and windows of opportunity ...

De-tangling ... unraveling ... a vivid memory from the summers of my childhood captured me this morning ...

All of our summers ... as children ... were spent in Hot Springs.  Our family had a "place" ... there on the lake ... it was very cool ... it was on a peninsula ... with a front bay ... and a back bay ... and at times as many as three docks ...

Back in those days ... lots were fairly large ... and there weren't really a lot of houses ... mostly just cottages .. cabins ... and the like ...

Ours was like that ... a couple of large rooms ... dormitory style ... all windows ... no a/c ... or telephone ... a true retreat ... a refuge ... and there was no immediate gratification ... or instant anything ...

Just lots of time ... to get done whatever needed to get done ... or not ...

The lakehouse.  It always felt like home. 

Across the back bay was one house on a large lot.  Across the front bay ... which was a lot wider ... was another small outjutting of land ... peninsula sounds like such a formal word ... it's more like a "point" ... at least that's what we always called it ...

Anyway, over there across the front bay .... there was a cluster of smaller cabin-ish structures ... on that point.  It was always my understanding that it was a "fishing camp" or something ... even though there were summers after we were old enough to venture out on the water  ... on our own ... that I think we met kids from over there that lived there ALL YEAR ROUND.

That always seemed too good to be true ... at least to me ... to live there ... all of the time.

Little Joe's Landing.  That was the name of the place ... on the other side ... of the front bay.  It was always on the horizon.  And it seemed like a magical place ... to me ...

We swam on the front bay side.  We skied from the back bay.  That's just the way it was ... always. 

The dock out front was pretty long. It was used for sunnin' ... swimmin' ... fishin' ...

And the lake bottom from the retaining wall to the end of the dock was shallow ... gradually descending to "over-our-heads" ... even as adults.  My brothers & I had been in THAT water since our very first summers ... we definitely weren't afraid ... of it ... we had been raised to be unafraid ... of anything.

Sometime around the time I was 6 or so, we ... my brothers & I ... decided that we shouldn't have to swim with our life belts on.  Seriously.  It's impossible to do all the swim-stuff kids do ... with a life belt wrapped around your waist. 

So we begged & pleaded ... wheedled ... & bargained with my parents & grandparents.  We come from a long line of hard-headed, risk-taking adventurers ... and negotiators ... after all.

That summer, a deal was struck.  If we could swim across the front bay ... without our life belts on ... then we could swim off of our dock ... in the front bay ... all summer ... unbelted. 

That is, quite possibly, my first vivid memory of a window of opportunity.  And the same deal ... was offered every summer ... ever after.

That's right.  There was no "grandfathering" on that one.  It was a trust that had to be earned ... year after year.

Pun intended.

So that first summer ... of the life belt challenge ... we set out.  The three of us.  Confident that it wasn't ... too far ... for us to swim.  And the grown-ups trailed along beside us ... in the flat-bottom boat ... ready to yank us out ... when we tuckered out.

I really don't know how far it was across the front bay ... to Little Joe's Landing. I remember that it seemed like the distance grew ... no matter how long we swam. 

Are we there?  Not yet.  Are you ready to give up?  Not yet.

And once the challenge began ... I always quickly lost sight of where my brothers were ... or how they were holding up.   You see, it wasn't a race. 

No one had to get there first ... I just had to get there ... on my own.  And so did they.

Breast stroke ... side stroke ... a little bit of rest on the back stroke ... and lots of kicking ... that's the way it went ... and it always took a lot longer than I thought it was going to ... nothing is ever as easy as it seems ...

And there was no sense getting in a hurry ... to get there ... it wasn't going anywhere ... all I had to do was keep my focus ... pace myself ... & in the end, I would wind up exactly where I wanted to be ...

I always managed to swim across the bay.  To reach the point ... at Little Joe's Landing. 

Honestly, I don't remember whether my brothers always made it or not. Somehow, I think there was one summer that one of us didn't make it across ... I just know it wasn't me.

So summer after summer ... we'd start the season with the annual swim across the front bay ... to Little Joe's Landing ... the ulitmate destination ... knowing that freedom & security were to be found there ... setting the tone for whatever was coming next ...

It's always been that way for me.  Give me a glimpse out of the window.  Show me the opportunity.  Offer me a chance.  And I will go the distance ... whatever it takes ... even if it turns out to be farther ... and harder than I originally thought.

Sometimes it takes a little longer than I would like ... and I find myself impatiently waiting patiently ... for something ... wishing things would hurry up & happen ... knowing full well that the best things happen to those who take their time ...

Not yet ... is ok ... in games where the stakes are high ... when it's really, really important ...

And "not yet" isn't the same as "not ever" ... they are two entirely different things.

Windows of opportunity.  When I stumble upon one, it's important to look out ... all the way to the other side ... to seize the moment ... jump into the water ... and swim  ... stroke after deliberate stroke ... never losing sight of where I am going ... & what's waiting for me there.

Humongous houses and concrete cover the spot where the lakehouse once stood.  And the view across the front bay has changed, too.  No more ramshackle cluster of fishing cabins ... on that little peninsula ... the point ...

Sure the scenery's changed ... still it feels the same ... guess maybe it's in the water ...

Am I there?  Not yet.

...but I am close ... I can feel it ...

Soon, MJ.  Very Soon. 

Just say the magic word.  Yet.

http://www.lifelessons-mj.blogspot.com/
(c) December 2010