Categories
Being human Reflections on Life, Being Human, and Medicine

The Fog

We like to plan a sailing adventure each summer. This past summer we sailed from Holland to St Joe to Chicago to Kenosha to Milwaukee and then back home (over the course of several days).  This day of the journey was the leg sailing from Kenosha to Milwaukee. As usual we checked the marine forecast. There were thunderstorms in the forecast. The morning looked like it would have some light showers. A larger storm was forecasted for the afternoon. This leg of our trip was 32 nautical miles, and so I estimated between 5-6 hours for the trip. We opted to leave in the morning with the plan to get to Milwaukee before the big storm hit.  

The first part of the trip was fine. We picked up coffee and pastries from a local coffee shop before we set out. Lake Michigan was calm as we sailed from Kenosha toward Racine. We had favorable winds for the 1st two hours and we were able to keep the motor off. We watched the weather radar and decided to motor sail (motor on plus sails out) to pick up speed. Once we passed Racine it started to rain. I went down below and put on my swimsuit. I figured then I wouldn’t mind sitting outside at the helm and in the rain. Later a chill came in the air and I went and put on a raincoat. Sarah, JJ (my daughter) and Jeannette (my sister-in-law) went below and out of the rain. Jim (my brother-in-law) put on a raincoat and stayed on watch with me at the helm.  

As we sailed, in the distance, we saw a solid gray wall form in front of us. We sailed into the wall of fog and were in very short order completely surrounded.  We could see the front of the boat and a just a little bit further. 

There are a few things that you can do when you are sailing in fog. 

  1. A watch (lookout): Of upmost importance is having a good watch. You should have at least two people looking very closely to make sure there are no other boats in your path. Jim and I agreed that it was a good thing that it was raining. We reasoned that we were less likely to run into fisherman in small boats who likely wouldn’t be so foolish to be out on Lake Michigan in the rain. 
  2. Radar: Radar can be very helpful. Unfortunately, I don’t have radar on my boat. 
  3. GPS: My GPS based chart plotter is an amazing help. It did a great job showing us where we were and allowing us to continue to safely navigate. 
  4. AIS (Automatic Identification System): I have installed an AIS receiver. Commercial vessels are required to transmit a VHF signal that includes their location, speed, direction, and identification for the vessel. This data shows up on my chart plotter. Not everyone has AIS but at least we wouldn’t miss spotting a freighter or other large vessel in our path. We did see the AIS signal from the Lake Michigan Express making its way in and out of Milwaukee.
  5. Foghorn: Standard conventions say that you should broadcast a long blow every 2 minutes to warn other vessels of your presence. If you are under sail you blow one long and then 2 short. We were motoring and so we would blow the boats horn every 2 minutes. 

Suddenly, I felt very nautical as we sailed along, sitting in the rain holding the helm and blowing the horn every 2 minutes. As I did so I thought about my grandfather.

My grandfather was a fisherman in the upper peninsula of Michigan. Years ago, he told us a story of getting caught in a big storm on Lake Michigan that I described in a previous blog post[1]. When he finished telling us about the big storm, it was my grandmother’s turn to tell a story.  She told us about the night of the fog.

She was at home with the kids. My grandfather had gone out fishing like he had done many times before. As the day turned to evening, he didn’t come home as he normally did. She waited. And then she waited some more and she started to get worried. Eventually she drove down to his boat landing. From the landing all she could see was an amazingly dense fog out on Lake Michigan. She didn’t know what to do. She sat in the car directly above the landing with her headlights on. She waited and she worried.

My grandfather picked up the story from here. He said the fog came in quickly just as he was heading back in. It was long before satellites or GPS technology. He had no way in the fog to find his way. The UP shoreline is rocky. The only way that he could get to his dock was to find the passageway that he had cleared through the rocks. He motored up and down the shoreline looking through the dense fog. The fog was so thick he couldn’t see any of the shoreline. There was no way for him to see any of the familiar landmarks that he used to guide his way in.  He had no idea what he would do. Night came on as he motored back and forth hoping for an answer.

Suddenly he saw lights shining through the fog. He had no idea what the lights were but decided his best hope was to aim for them and hope for the best. He motored until he was directly offshore of the lights. He made a 90 degree turn and aimed directly for them.  He motored on slowly toward the lights worrying that any minute he would hear the crunch of a rock crushing into his hull.  Eventually he was near the shore and he could see his dock. He breathed a sigh of relief as he tied up his boat and walked up the hill to the waiting car and my very relieved and happy grandmother.

I pulled my raincoat around me to hold out the chill in the air. I reached down and pressed the horn button to sound our 2-minute fog warning. This story played in my mind as I followed the GPS track on my chart plotter. I could see the location of the shoreline, the water depth, the location of the McKinley marina in Milwaukee and the location of the Lake Michigan Express as it buzzed into Milwaukee.  I imagined how terrifying it would be if I had no way to know where the coastline or the marina was. I looked down at my compass thinking how it would be very hard if that were my only guide. I zoomed in the screen on the chart plotter so that I could identify the rocky shoreline and the discreet channel that we needed. 

We were getting close to the marina. The chart plotter showed the channel markers. There should be channel markers. Where were they? I felt anxious having to trust the GPS. Jim and I strained our eyes looking for the channel. Suddenly beside us less than a boat length away the channel marker appeared out of the fog. I jumped a little bit when I saw it. It was much bigger and closer than what I expected. As we passed it the fog cleared and the McKinley Marina appeared in front of us. I breathed a sigh of relief as we tied up the boat to the fuel dock and I climbed up the hill to check in.

On this blog I normally tell an analogy or a lesson from the story.  In this case it is different. The point I am making is that everyone has stories. The stories can be rich and wonderful. 

I have thought often of my grandparents and the fog. I can picture my grandmother sitting in a 1930s/40s car watching with worry and hope. I can imagine my grandfather with a pit in his stomach motoring back and forth trying to figure out what to do. They lived interesting lives. Knowing who they were and what made up their lives is important to me. I’m grateful that they shared their stories with me.

Everyone has stories.

Learning them brings rich flavor to life.

Take the time to hear them. Ask. Listen.

You will be richly rewarded when you do.

[1] https://manmedicineandmike.com/the-storm-an-amazing-story-from-my-grandfather-learning-to-live-through-and-face-the-storms-in-life/

Categories
Being human Reflections on Life, Being Human, and Medicine Reflections on the Christian Life

The Optimism of Youth, The Weight of Experience and The Absolute Importance of Choosing to Live in the Middle

Sometimes when I am working, I like to listen to music. I listen to a wide variety of different types of music. On a whim recently, I put on a 1991 Loreena McKennitt album that Sarah and I liked early in our marriage.

I was surprised how the music suddenly transported me and changed how I felt inside in that moment. The music continued playing into my Air Pods and as it did, I started feeling younger and to my surprise, optimistic. The feeling was nice. I didn’t want it to stop, so when the album ended, I played it over again, and then as I was driving home after work, once again.

As the music played, I began to wonder. Life can feel heavy.  Why does it feel so heavy sometimes? We all have our Facebook photos where everything looks perfectly wonderful and happy, but in between the moments captured in the photos, there can be a heaviness, or perhaps better described as a seriousness, to life.  This seems to have become more commonplace the older I have grown.

The music however pulled me in the other direction. As it did, I was reminded of a commonly used expression, “the optimism of youth.” 

I remember years ago when Sarah and I volunteered to do some teaching at our church. We took on hard and complicated subjects. An older, more experienced man in our church would laugh and remark how he was impressed that we were not afraid to take on big or hard things. But we were young, and in “the optimism of youth” we believed we could handle it and so did not fear taking on big projects. 

In youth, there is a tendency to believe we can take on the world, conquer it, and remake it all better. 

In the Navy I came into a job and noticed chaos in several practices in the medical department. I was young and I knew I could clean them all up and make them better. A few months later I had structured pathways and plans and even a 3-ring binder of an organizational plan in place. When I left the command to take on another job the binder was filed on a back shelf. It seems that despite all my hard work, I had not permanently fixed everything. [1]

There is a person popular on social media who picks random houses with overgrown yards and fixes them up. The transformation is marvelous and the time accelerated work that he captures on video is mesmerizing to watch.[2] But then, it is inevitable that without continued care, the weeds are going to grow back. Chaos is going to come again.

The contrast has become evident to me. “The optimism of youth” says that we can and should do marvelous things.  “The weight of experience” says that such efforts are in vain. Entropy is going to win. The work that is done is going to be lost. 

I got in the car to drive home as I continued to think about all these things.  As I drove, I realized that I tend to be a defensive driver, anticipating catastrophe at every turn. I remember the person who ran into the side of my car 25+ years ago and vow to not have that happen today. What could go wrong? What catastrophe is coming at me down the road? As I drive, it occurs to me that in my mind I am speculating and getting pulled down by a variety of potential worries and anxieties about current and future happenings in my life. 

Life can feel heavy.

I turned the music on again. Once again, the lightness and optimism returned. I like that person better.  What is so different? I searched inside of me to figure out what it was I was feeling. It was like an elixir that tasted so wonderful that I wanted to take sip after sip as I tried to place the taste. Perhaps, I thought, if I can figure it out, I can then somehow retain it.

There is a wisdom that we gain with life that is very valuable. Knowing what I know now, how would I live my life over if given the chance? 

There is nothing wrong with driving with an awareness of the risks and potential hazards to be a safer driver. There is nothing wrong with understanding that despite whatever wonderful work you do, time will tend to undo what you have done.  It is wise to be aware and cautious of the potential risks and problems in the world. But as I think about all of this, I can begin to feel heavy and old. “Oh dear. Oh dear. Oh dear…” my children used to laugh at their grandfather who would say that if something was going wrong and sometimes even if there was nothing going wrong. I am beginning to understand why he would react that way.

But there is power and wonder in the optimism of youth. 

The Lord God is on His throne and His purposes are being worked out. The wonderful things that He is working in this world and in my life may be complicated and beyond my understanding. These things might be realized over a much longer period of time than I may understand, but God is in control. At the same time, I must acknowledge that He has given me good gifts to enjoy. Life is not easy, and there are hard things to go through. But in the midst of everything, there are good and happy things to enjoy. He is the creator God who made a world of beauty and wonder with a desire that we could and would enjoy it. 

“Even when I am sad, I am still a little happy,” my daughter said to her grandmother when she was young. Within the midst of wisdom can there still be optimism? Can we somehow live in the middle? Can we choose to be a little happy even when we are sad? 

I think it is not only possible but essential. 

I realize that I must choose to embrace and retain the optimism of youth. I am going to choose to play and laugh and find joy and humor in things whenever I can. I know the seriousness of things and all that there is that I could worry about. I am hoping to actively choose to not let that overwhelm me or define me. I am going to take a sip of the elixir that says these things:

  • God is in control. You do not have to worry about everything. If you are a person of faith, you need to relax and trust Him.
  • There is joy in this world. Drink richly of it and enjoy it.
  • If you see something that is good to do, even if it looks like a big thing, go ahead. Go for it! There is joy and wonderful purpose and meaning and optimism in taking it all on.
  • Stop being so serious! Laugh. Play. Enjoy.

My granddaughter runs up and wants to play with the blocks on the floor. She is getting tired and becomes very busy to keep herself going. I too am tired after work. If we pull all the blocks out, we will have to pick them all up again in a few minutes when it is time for her to go home. It is getting late. We have to figure out dinner. There are other things that I should do.  “Oh dear. Oh dear!” I think and then I chuckle to myself inside.  “Of course! Let’s play with the blocks!” 

[1] https://manmedicineandmike.com/the-time-i-saved-the-world/

[2] https://www.youtube.com/c/SBMowing