KAYAKING 2003

excerpt from Joy's Story 2003
http://joys-story-2003.blogspot.com/

KAYAKING

I WAS CROSSING MY OWN BOUNDARIES

WHICH I HAD NEVER CROSSED BEFORE

- Joy Krauthammer


While at summer spiritual retreat, Kallah, my globe trotting, 'pink' friend Gayle, decided to join me on my continuing voyage where I was going kayaking to Washington's San Juan Islands in the Strait of Juan de Fuca. I felt good that I had inspired Gayle to try this sport and we recited a Shehechianu/new 
beginnings prayer. While waiting for the ship to take us over the next 
morning, we got to see more of the cute town with resident, Liz, and 
view her co-housing community.



I drummed a few hours by the water's edge with the local Bellingham
 Sunday drummers. They saw me with my camera and requested that I use 
their leader's digital camera to capture them for their website. This 
artist won't receive any photo credit but I was pleased to shoot dozens 
of photos and then watch the sun set over the water. I was a happy 
camper.



I became aware of an older drummer, somewhat paralyzed, with closed 
fists, sitting on the grass with his wheelchair next to him. From the 
distance, sixty feet away, I could see that he was struggling to dress 
himself, with no results. I went over, and put on him, his long socks and 
each pointy cowboy boot. Others lifted him back into his weathered
 chair. Drummers share universal heart-drum beats like prayer.



Gayle and I met people wherever we went and shared stories. It is a small
 world, "separated by six degrees". After long days of water sports, we
 enjoyed ice cream cones, shared good fresh fish meals, and listened to a 
community country music concert in front of a 100 plus year old farming 
house.



It was so much fun traveling on the ship over from the mainland that we
 went quickly back on it (after finding our B&B--that is a separate horrific story), 
to go whale watching. We did watch whales frolicking right by us. I 
jolted in surprise seeing these huge black and white mammals unexpectedly 
rise up next to us and I was unable to shoot the camera. I did not need 
my binoculars.



Just like when I rode the Washington State Ferry (when I'd camped out in 
the Olympic National Forest), Gayle nor I ever sat down inside or outside 
on our carefully chosen seats on the top deck on the ship. Rather we were 
always standing at the edge, CATCHING THE THRILL of the fresh breeze and 
captivating water at the boat's very cold front or back, as close to the 
water as we could be. We loved it so much that we went again the next 
day; we were kayaking in between the whale watching.



Kayaking in the San Juan Islands at Roche Harbor there were seals bobbing 
in and out of the water. Floating atop a bed of kelp, I pulled up right 
out of the water where they were floating, an arm-load several feet long 
of smooth, thick, out-stretched hand-width wide, leafy seaweed-bull kelp 
with a big bulbous form at one end, and I ate some. This kelp grows a few 
feet a day. It felt so weird, and it was fun taking crunchy bites out of 
the dark green multi-toned portions, leaving a defined sculptured effect.
 Tasted like briny miso soup but I was not in a restaurant. A new 
experience! I FELT LIKE AN ENCHANTED SEA GARDENER. I always sow and reap 
and eat the fruits out of my own garden at home but this was definitely 
different. Maybe I need to put in a pond. I could plant a lotus.



KAYAKING, I felt I WAS CROSSING MY OWN BOUNDARIES WHICH I HAD NEVER
CROSSED BEFORE. True, the water trip was with a guide, but Gayle and I kayaked across 
four channels and under bridges to other little uninhabited nearby 
islands. We tried really hard to paddle with a rhythm, in unison. It's
 easy to go in circles.



This time kayaking among the San Juan Islands, WITH MORE SELF-CONFIDENCE, 
I took deep breaths and paddled really quickly wanting to cross and 
safely, avoiding big boats, other kayaks and rocks. Since that trip 
(July 2003--last month) I have been able to kayak alone to other little islands
 and back.

On my first trip alone and back to a little island from Jackson
 Beach near Friday Harbor in San Juan Island, I paddled so fast (beating 
time records, I was informed) because I had fear (of what?). The impetus 
was not to only paddle along the not so scenic shoreline; I WANTED BEAUTY 
and to enjoy the miracle of nature. I SUCCESSFULLY BROKE AWAY from shore,
 and WAS ABLE TO ENTER THE OPEN BODY OF WATER to paddle out and beyond to 
another enticing island. (These thoughts remind me that when I used to 
snow ski, I felt similar feelings and urges, although I went to places I 
was not prepared to go. (Ask the Ski Rescue Patrol.)



Following that short journey, I have since kayaked between other little 
islands but with great enjoyment; leisurely turning around, LOOKING BACK
 AT FROM WHERE I HAD COME, photographing, and then continuing. I even try 
to paddle the kayak with my bare hands, and with my feet over the sides 
or feet straddling the oar--hoping it does not fall overboard when I am 
shooting scenery. I love the touch of the water and keep dipping in and 
splashing water on myself. Yes, it felt cool on my warm body but it was 
as if I NEEDED TO MERGE MORE WITH THE WATER even as I was above the
water.



Since I wanted a photo of myself in the kayak, I leaned all the way back, 
catching my feet, the oar and surrounding vistas. SEE PHOTOS! (I've 
noticed that Aviva also takes a picture of her feet in her self-photos. 
My sister, Faye, tells me she also did the same. Does that make us a 
foot, feat or foto family?)



One year ago I was unable to accomplish that kayaking feat; In Big Bear 
Lake, on a good weather day, I was too afraid to go beyond the middle of 
the lake to the other side. Several years ago in Sedona, Arizona, I had 
been unable to cross a stream walking in the water with my 
camera, and with tripod as a support, on an Arizona Highways photo group trip.
 ( Thus, I missed the photo shoot). Alone on a log on another Sedona "vortex 
exploration" journey I could not cross over Oak Creek. A friend encouraged me. Yet, interestingly when confronted with a similar 
situation in rainy Topanga Canyon, where I could not walk across a log at
 night, I WAS ABLE TO EXTEND MYSELF and guide another concerned person 
over the water. We both made it to the party on the other side.



I used to stand on the grass over the ragged coastal cliffs at Big Surs' 
Esalen each August following my summer retreat week. Looking down at the 
ocean, enraptured, intensely trying to "hold" the waves, ABSORBING THE 
WATER in my memory, in every cell of my body so that the beauty and 
healing energy I needed would remain with me. Each wave was unique. The 
water is therapeutic in helping me to SHIFT VIBRATIONAL FREQUENCIES AND 
MAINTAIN HARMONY AND BALANCE IN ALL FOUR WORLDS; spiritual, mental, 
emotional and physical.

(Knowing from experience, that when I returned 
home from a retreat where G*d has prepared me with rejuvenation, 
inevitably another acute medical, emergency crisis with husband Marcel* would 
begin immediately. I TRY TO BUFFER MYSELF between retreat and 
home, with a long slow drive down the breath-taking awesome Pacific 
Coast.) 



I thank HaShem for sharing the waters with me. Erev Shabbat at Esalen, I
 would IMMERSE MYSELF and take a mikveh/ritual bath in the cold Pacific
 Ocean. Lately, I have been less intent in trying to keep the moment
 reachable--maybe because I have been blessed more with being immersed in 
the water than only being above it. NOW I CAN MORE EASILY LET GO OF MY 
NEED TO "HOLD ON."  Conversely, for a few years I HAVE MAINTAINED A 
PSYCHIC ARK (like Noah's), to keep me above turbulence, for smooth 
sailing. I POST MY WATER PHOTOS AND DRAWINGS ON MY WALLS AND WINDOWS 
at home to remind me of peaceful places. 

SHALOM.
   

PS * Husband, z"l, died January 2006.                                                 

~ ~ ~

END OF SUMMER
Transcendence in the South Pacific
August 2003

- Joy Krauthammer


After the Washington kayaking trip in July, I was transformed. I even 
swam and snorkeled alone, amongst exciting, colorful tropical reef fish
 of all shapes and sizes, giant purple, and blue wavy lipped clams, spiny
 sea urchins and yucky deathly to me--tubular shaped black sea cucumbers. They are 
found between small coral atolls, sand islets/motus formed on reefs, and 
lying off larger islands in French Polynesia in the South Pacific. I 
marvel at the magical underwater world.



Swimming alone off a white sandy sheltered beach shoreline from one 
seductive motu to another, I would step onto the deserted motu--these once 
in my mind mythical islands--with no others around, play with coconuts 
under palm trees, TOUCHING AND KNOWING I had reached land. 

I have read, "It is not trespassing when you cross your own boundaries." 


INFINITE ARE THE POSSIBILITIES FOR SUCCESSFULLY REACHING MY DREAMS. 

I AM CONSCIOUSLY CAREFUL FOR WHAT I WISH,

 DEEPLY KNOWING THAT MANIFESTATION IS POSSIBLE.



WITH EACH JOURNEY
 I AM ABLE TO CROSS MORE OF MY OWN SELF-IMPOSED LIMITATIONS. 

I feel great empowerment and I am proud of myself. 
To gain confidence for the solo snorkeling, I first kayaked alone from 
one palm tree-fringed motu to another and back. Being careful, I did not 
get stuck in coral and rock filled shallow water. (I had no 'travel buddy' to know if I was stuck anywhere, on this South Pacific journey.) I love the warm, 
intense turquoise blue, crystal-clear, calm, salty lagoon waters of 
Raiatea and Tahaa (sharing the same sheltered barrier reef), of the 
Leeward Islands of the Society Islands. Easily floating on my back, 
swimming and playing, I turn like a seal. I experience the mysterious, 
mystical temple of my universe. 

IT IS SO SPIRITUAL FOR ME

 BEING IN THE WATER

 AND DISCOVERING PLACES I HAVE NEVER BEEN BEFORE.

Looking upward from the water, in a sense of wonder, entranced, I see 
imposing high mountain rims, ridges and ranges; an extinct ancient 
volcano. Clouds intriguingly float and hang within its majestic peaks. I 
acknowledge from its realms, the spirits of the ancestors. 

~ ~ ~

~ ~ ~

digital collage by Joe Rudy

PS
I don't see my personal story about snokeling in Eilat. Around 2000, Moshe Tov, Sara Leya and I were in Eilat to enjoy some snorkeling following a trip with others to Petra in Jordan.
I saw in the distance an outcropping in the Ocean. I hoped that there would be colorful fish way out in the water.  To get out to the coral rock, I would have to swim far from the shore. I wanted to swim around the entire rock, and I did, but that meant I would lose sight of the shore. That was scary to me. It took courage for me to surrender sight of the shore, and swim. 

"Man cannot discover new oceans unless he has the courage to lose sight of the shore."

—Andre Gide