Continuing from last week about beach walks and rock collecting, some of the rocks that spark joy for me are the ones that seemingly are very plain, nothing fancy, just rocks. They are smooth from wear over the millennia of waves, sand, rinse, and repeat. When I was sixteen years old, I would have instantly skipped them across the surface of the water, trying to get into the double digits. Now, I have created a different use for them. I stack them.
It takes patience, which is not my strong suit, and a steady hand. In addition to being able to stack them, I want to make the pile interesting to me. I use different colors, textures and sizes to accomplish this goal. The photo is a perfect example of what I am trying to achieve.
The smallest stack (second from the left) was a collection of small stones from various family trips that I had on my desk in my office for about fifteen years, well before this became an unusual obsession. I had no idea at the time that I would be scouring the shoreline for stones to stack. It was simply a reminder of the time we spent together with our children and the various places we had been, a geological scrapbook.
We have a back patio with a low wall around the southern perimeter. I have stacked large stones, about fifteen pounds worth on the wall and it is a permanent fixture that weathers all four seasons. It is eight stones tall and after a particularly horrendous storm, the top stone may fall off, but otherwise it is a stalwart memorial for me. I determined that one of the reasons that this remains intact is due to the weight of the stones.
Two weeks ago, I walked on North Beach in the rain (which is a perfect time, because you can see all of the colors of the rocks). I noticed a rather substantial driftwood log on the beach and a myriad of interesting rocks around it. Inspired, I created an asymmetrical stack of eight various rocks and left it to be appreciated by others. In the interim, we have had several large storms and I am happy to report that it still stands.
Joan and I were walking a few days ago, and I saw a family notice it. The teenage boy made a beeline for it, and I muttered to Joan, “Well, it was nice while it lasted.” I had no desire to protect this public sculpture because eventually, nature will take its course. Oftentimes, teenage boys accelerate nature. I know because I was once one. Just as I was about to watch the destruction of my creation, he whipped out his phone and took pictures of it. Then he asked his family to pose near it. Boy, I underestimated his intentions. Perhaps I was projecting my teenage proclivities on this unsuspecting young man.
Why is this a topic for my blog? Great question. What I have learned from this new hobby is the concept of balance and its importance for our lives. I always understood this idea, and probably thought that I had some balance, more than most. But the more that I have learned from an imbalance concerning my health, the more I realize that I never really had it. I only had the illusion of it.
Looking back, my family, faith, and my career were the priorities over the last thirty or so years. To be sure, these are admirable priorities to have, but they leave quite a bit out.
Have you ever seen a bodybuilder who is jacked? Their chest ripples with muscles, their biceps could crush walnuts, and you look down only to see chicken legs. He focused on the upper body and skipped a disproportionate number of leg days. Reflecting on the last thirty years, that is how I see myself. Instead of skipping leg days, I gave little effort to my health, fitness, diet, nutrition, and all of the things that will make achieving my priorities worth sacrificing for.
If I knew then what I know now, I am confident the whole health event would never have occurred. I would have had a fully functioning immune system, a healthy way to mitigate stress in my life, and would still be helping people plan for and meet their financial goals. They say hindsight is 20/20. Maybe it is. I choose not to live with regrets, and have the philosophy that everything happens for a reason. Maybe this is a copout or a way to rationalize when things don’t work out the way you planned.
I can honestly tell you that if I had a magic wand or some way to go back in time and avoid getting sick, avoid the long struggle back to health, and be like I was, I wouldn’t do it. For me, this is very important, and it is certainly not a copout or rationalization. I believe with every fiber of my being that this happened for me to course correct my flight plan and make significant changes to avoid disaster. This was a kinder, gentler affliction, one for which I can recover by making significant lifestyle changes.
If you want to learn patience (which I have always struggled with), you don’t sit down and learn it. You need to be given an opportunity for which patience is a requirement. My doctor reminded me several times that this is a marathon and not a sprint. At the time, I was thinking, “We’ll just see about that.” Arrogant is a word that comes to mind. I was bound and determined to prove him wrong and get well way ahead of schedule. That was more than three years ago, and I am still working my tail off (about three hours every day focused on improving my health).
Stacking rocks is not a senseless activity to me. It is a metaphor for one of the most significant lessons that I have ever learned. Patience aligned with balance can create something beautiful. My life lacked balance, and with patience, I am slowly getting it back in order.