Toast can never be bread again.
I learnt loads this time last year. I didn’t choose to, I didn’t intend to. It’s almost as if learning happens all the time anyway (fancy that). Especially when we reflect on an experience (age old Kolb).
This summer I learnt that lakes can be as still as glass. Memorisingly reflecting the world back to you, surrounding you in an optical illusion. They can also have tides, waves and eddies. I learnt that when you’re crewing a boat, any boat, and you experience the waves, you should always cut them at 45 degrees. To face them head on would lift the front and then the back of the boat significantly. Tipping you out of balance with the person behind you. To face them bow side would increase the chances of capsize. You would both roll into the water. When the waves are 2ft high and your boat is less that 1ft deep… you would both roll into the water.
But when you cut the waves, you rise and fall together. You flow with the pace and force of the wave and let it take you the direction the wind chooses. You don’t get to have control. Even if your final destination isn’t always in your sight line and the stern faces a different way. The wrong way. Even when you know it’s going to get tougher before it gets easier. You ride the wave and keep paddling and master the boat. It’s your boat.
I paused and thought about giving up. My arm was tired. Arms. Were. I never ordered a side of adrenaline (Americans always go large on sides).
There was no ‘give up’ option.
Stack the toast together. Relax, yes. Conserve your energy there is more to come.