Blessed are those whose strength is in you,
    whose hearts are set on pilgrimage. (Psalm 84:5 NIV)

 

I often set myself little goals, like blogging about our recent adventure once a week. My intention was to post on Mondays. And, here it is Thursday! But setting the intention actually lent itself to a sort of success. Here I am blogging away, and honestly on Monday, I didn’t know what part of the adventure to highlight. In general, I offer a chronological viewpoint, but themes emerge and that’s what I usually chase, when I consider my blog material.

So now that I’ve given you a behind the scenes glimpse of my train of thought, while keeping up with my blogging goals, let’s get back to the Intuition, and our summer voyage upon the Upper Mississippi River.

We arrived at the Watergate Marina.

We chose to explore the northern Mississippi to avoid the hot and humid weather between Chicago and St. Louis. Without a doubt, we missed out on the hottest part of summer, but the temps in St. Paul were plenty warm.

Once we parked our boat in the marina slip assigned to us, Les made arrangements to get new tires for our trailer. It’s much easier to change tires with the boat OFF the trailer. Fortunately, a local place was able to do the work for us the same afternoon that we arrived. While Les went to get the tires, I puttered and set up the “cabin” for our cruise.

My intention for this trip was to UNPLUG. I brought my journal and art supplies,as well as books to read. I left the laptop and iPad at home. I did bring my phone, but I planned to use the radio for music and my digital camera to take photos.

Here’s a note from my journal about my intention, as well as lyrics I wrote down. The song played on the local radio station, while I puttered. It was as if the songwriter knew exactly how I was feeling. I was tired.

The lyrics of the song tapped into some part of me that I wasn’t really in tune with before we left on the trip. Vacations have a way of opening up my soul and giving me time and space to reflect. I’m not sure now looking back if I was really mad, but I must admit there’s usually some latent anger lurking below the surface of my life. I can’t really explain it, but it’s just there. Unmet expectations. Frustrated plans. Even when everything is smooth sailing on the surface, turbulence exists in my soul.

It’s not good or bad, nor right or wrong. It just there. I needed time to let the pressure to ease off and rest. And the song gave words to my unspoken weariness.

Now that we were settled into the marina, my intention was to UNPLUG.

Come back next week, and see how my intention took a strange turn for the best.

How does setting an intention work for you?

Set a timer for 5 minutes and complete this prompt: “I intend . . .” I would love to hear what you discover.

 

 

The LORD shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore. (Psalm 121:8 KJV)

On our recent travels to explore the upper Mississippi, in our sweet little boat, we experienced several interventions. Two that stand out to me, happened while we were traveling to and from the vacation. The Intuition remains on its trailer, while we transport it to our destination and back home. It’s a sturdy, trusty double-axle trailer made to carry its load. We have it checked out and serviced yearly, along with the boat. So we started our trip with no fear of it failing us along the way.

It took us two days to drive to St. Paul, Minnesota and the majority of the driving was done on our first day. We planned to stay in a overnight parking lot near a local Walmart. Truckers and boat/RV travelers use these spots to rest during their drives. I usually feel nervous and vulnerable, but this time I felt at peace. (We sleep inside the boat, while it’s on the trailer.) At dusk, we pulled into the lot, which had a few big rigs humming nearby. Shortly after we parked, a trucker parked right next to us, and asked if we minded; they keep their diesel engines running all night, which is noisy and odorous. We said it was okay, because we knew it was a public place, and we really couldn’t say no. A few seconds later, he spoke to my husband, pointing out that our trailer had a flat tire. We hadn’t noticed.

We were so thankful that the driver noticed and told us. And without us asking, he graciously pulled away, and parked in a different lot. A flat tire could have happened while we were driving, so this intervention was quite welcomed. If we had noticed it in the morning, the flat tire would have caught us off guard, and been a bit of an emotional upheaval. (As neither one of us does very well with setbacks and frustrations.) The next morning, Les replaced the tire with our spare,and I bought our groceries for the trip at Walmart. The spare was low on air, but providentially there was a gas station near where we had parked with enough space for us to pull in and add air to that tire. We had about an hour or so drive to the marina, so after stocking up with our supplies and a quick breakfast, we headed on our way.

For the next several weeks, I plan to chronicle our summer adventure while on our boat, the Intuition. Check back on Mondays to find out what happened next. At the end of the series, I’ll share the second big intervention we experienced on our trip home.

What unexpected intervention have you experienced recently?

Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good! (Psalm 34:8 ESV)

I do not at all understand the mystery of grace – only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us.    (Anne Lamott)

I think there is a difference between practicing minimalism and self-imposed deprivation. I don’t know about you, but somewhere in my mixed up ideas about good living, I think depriving myself of certain pleasures will make me a better person. As I prepared for our trip, I started thinking that I shouldn’t take too much stuff. So, I adopted a minimalist approach to packing, but that approach devolved quickly into frustration. I thrive in an atmosphere of variety and options.

Yes, we have limited space on our boat, but I didn’t have to leave home my favorite art supplies, because I might not use them. And I didn’t have to overlook my comfy warm socks, just because it might not get that cold. And I didn’t need to pass over the nature photography book, just because I might not read it cover to cover. I packed the art supplies, the clothes and the books, which I wanted, and that was good.

On vacation, I often long for a simpler life. A life where laptops, iPads and smart phones were not necessities. I left the laptop and iPad at home, but brought the smart phone, and a vintage tape recorder that I thought would be fun. I planned to send out postcards instead of emails, and minimize the amount of texting. And I proclaimed on Facebook that I was unplugging and going off grid.

But as the trip unfolded, I found myself posting highlights of our adventure. I remembered how much I loved sharing the journey with others. And how easy it was to use my camera on the phone. And so, in an ironic twist, I found myself daily posting photos and little vignettes on Facebook. And some of my favorite dialogues during the trip came from texts received from people back home, and we even connected with a friend we hadn’t seen for several years. We had a nice reunion in a park near St. Paul, at the end of our trip. (If I had deprived myself of Facebook, some of these joys would have slipped by, unrealized.) Sure, unplugging can be a great way to unwind and relax, but it really wasn’t what I needed. I needed connection, but just in lower doses.

So what about you, what do you need currently in your daily life? How does deprivation help or hinder you? How could embracing an adventurous spirit change your daily perspective?

Some of the photos posted on our first day traveling from St. Louis to Owatonna, MN:

 

 

We humans keep brainstorming options and plans, but God’s purpose prevails. (Proverbs 19:21 The Message)

Intention can be defined as “a determination to act in a certain way.” Intentions can be interesting vehicles for success or failure, for enjoyment or frustration. I like the idea of setting an intention, especially when my life feels scattered and chaotic. (Which more often, than not, is true.) Even though, I am in the “empty nest” season of life, I never allow my calendar to remain empty for very long. I am interested in many things, and have various interests that keep my attention. I used to chide myself for the lack of singularity in my life, but now I embrace the abundance of variety, which as they say adds spice to life.

Recently, my husband and I planned our summer vacation to take twelve days to explore the Upper Mississippi river on our boat, the Intuition. We love new adventures, planning and plotting our course (Les does the majority of the plotting, and I plan ways to create an atmosphere of ease and enjoyment in our small quarters on the boat.) The time just before we left was full of celebration and living life to the fullest, so my packing plans became a little overwhelming.

One morning over coffee, I told Les, I really want this trip to be special! He calmly replied, “Why not just let it be the trip that it’s going to be? Don’t try to make it special.” (That’s a paraphrase of what he said, because he doesn’t usually use that many words, but you get the gist.) I sighed, and agreed that his perspective was a wise one.

I went to my journal to write out my expectations, and to plan what to pack. The question that arose in my mind, asked “What was the intention for this particular trip?” I listed things like: awe, relax, reunite, build, love, adventure and later added refreshment.

The weekend before we left, I carved out some time to create and luxuriate in an online creative “retreat.” One of the pages, turned out to be just the intention I needed for the trip. A little girl beckoning me to come out and play. (Also that week, a friend encouraged me to have fun and PLAY on this vacation.) So my intention was set. I would pack things that encouraged me to play and have a playful spirit.

I also decided to pack in a minimalist way, which is always a good start for me, because eventually my creative self starts throwing in all kinds of options. I started out with one blank  composition notebook to journal in and to make collages, but then I added my mini art journal, and the journal I recently worked in. (I did manage to just use the notebook for most of my documenting and doodling around with art.) I packed casual clothes in a rust/orange/fuschia/coral palette. I brought my red tape recorder, my pink camouflage binoculars, a kite, an etch-a-sketch, a Spirograph set, and plenty of magazines and glue sticks. (But later, several markers, a watercolor set, crayons and colored pencils migrated into my tote bag and storage bins.) I packed my swimsuit and sunblock and a fun water bottle to stay hydrated.

While traveling, my intention to play informed the kind of snacks I bought, the souvenirs I picked out and the activities I chose to enjoy.

Our boat is enclosed, so the helm is inside, as well as our sleeping area, kitchenette, galley area for cooking and doing the dishes, plus lots of little storage hatches and drawers to contain our provisions. On this trip, I converted the table and seats to the daybed configuration, and just like a little girl set up my perch to read my books (aka the “stowaways”), to write in my journal, to play with my art supplies and watch the river roll by.

Over the next few days here at the blog, I intend to recall the wonder and the challenges of living on our boat while cruising down the river. No matter how much we plan, the adventure always has its twists and turns.

I invite you to take this trip with us in your journal, and respond with words or collage or doodling or sketching or any thing that catches your imagination.

First prompt: Dream a little, pause and respond to this…

What is your intention for your current journey?

 

 

…and the pleasures of living with you forever. (Psalm 16:11 NLT)

Requiem

What will we really do all day in eternity?

Savor sweet, just ripe strawberries?

Walk our dogs without leashes?

Drink rust-tinted coffee on our porches?

Stroll with our favorite Aunt B along the beach, choosing shells inlaid with indigo?

Play board games on rainy days?

Will everyone own a little brownstone cottage on the lake with bicycles and boats to transport us along the shore?

Collect mugs that remind us of a place, a person, or a pastime?

Live on our Intuition and never long for home?

Never weep because happy times were over?

Never have to say good-bye?

Never have to die?

 

I dedicate this poem to my Aunt Bev who left us this year to enter eternity. I dearly miss her and all the happy times we had at the Lake and cottages over the years. (Her and I pictured below, when I was a little girl 😊)