July 27, 2014

Boise, Idaho

We make it to Boise, Idaho to meet up with our New Paltz friends. Todd has driven his motorcycle across from NY and our timing lines up just right. Our old friend Dan lives in Boise with his girlfriend Meg. They let us park the ELF out front. We are greeted with whiskey shots and warm hugs. I retire pretty early and wake in the middle of the night to the sound of laughter and the scent of rolled tobacco. I fall asleep smiling. The next morning we make our way to the river after stopping at a music store so Todd can buy a backpacker guitar. Young kids jump off of a concrete platform into the rushing waters. I stop. I want to. I look at Pamela. She stops walking, smiles and says, “Lead an extraordinary life.”

I watch the jumpers soar one by one. I watch how and where they land. I ask, “How far do you have to jump out?”

One soaked kid says, “About five feet.”

I nod. “I’m going to watch you then I am going to do it.” I watch. Two young girls walk up. “Will you two go first?” They nod their heads.

“Just jump right after us.” They say hugging themselves to stay warm. I strip to my bathing suit and watch as the girls casually take flight. I run across the pavement. I leap as far as they girls do. Without a shriek, I silently fly in the air and wait for the water to meet my body. It’s freezing cold. And fast. It sweeps me quickly down stream so I fight to make it to the shore. Extraordinary life.

Pamela hands me my towel. “Feels good?”

“Oh yea,” I say grinning down the path. We meet our group at the sandy beach. Todd plays music on this backpacker guitar and we all sing along. We swim against the current. We find rocks to hold on to and bob up and down in the movement. Rafters, river folk, float by. Herds of people in small groups lazily make their way downstream. Todd, Pamela and Dan do handstands against the rocky shore. Laughter abound. Meg leads us upstream to float down the river.

I watch as Todd, Dan and Meg wade out to the middle over an array of pointed rocks. They all flop forward with ease and let the water carry them through the rapids. I watch, hesitate, overthink. I wait for Meg to come back. I call to her, “I’ll go after you.”

Pamela waits on the shoreline. She decides to stay by the shore, “You know I’m not a great swimmer.”

I follow Meg out into the current and let go. The river carries me swiftly and I don’t fight it. My body is pushed through and over the currents. I laugh out loud and hoot with joy. We all turn back and do it again, this time we convince Pamela to join us. I look her straight in the eyes. “It’s worth it to conquer this fear. Hold on to me. Or if you don’t feel safe, holler and we will all come save you.” She follows me out. Dan pushes Todd in the water. And they begin their float. Then me, then Pam. Then Meg. Like driftwood floating we move with the force. Sometimes you have to just let go and let nature carry you.

This moment of surrender will forever remain in my consciousness. Surrender is scary. The illusion of control keeps us “safe.” Or at least we feel safe. But there is also safety and freedom in the surrender. We don’t have control. Because everything is in constant flux, our so-called control can, at any moment, be taken out from under us. People leave. Love evaporates. Death happens. Love erupts. Children are born. Jobs change. Nature destroys and creates. Homes are lost. Homes are built. Families and friends come and go. There is only change.

If we surrender to the current of life, we don’t set up false expectations. Blame, guilt, sadness, anxiety, and disappointment are powerful like the current of a moving river. Yet, we aren’t as quick to drown in them when we ease into surrender. In the letting go, we can recognize these human emotions are part of the current. We acknowledge and release. Each choice is a choice that causes an action and a reaction. We can always make another choice even if the circumstances we are in don’t reveal an easy one. And one of those choices can be to surrender to the great divine. This letting go and release will lead you exactly where you need to be, on the edge of a river in the middle of your Idaho.