Recently I was fortunate enough to spend a week at the family
cabin located way up in the North Central Cascades of Washington State.
Clear crisp mornings seemed to make the fall
spectrum glow. The first time I slept in
this cabin was the night of my sixteenth birthday. The place and time has formed me, nurtured me,
matured me, and basically made me.
It is always an amazing place and it didn’t fail to surprise
me this trip. I met some salmon, every
October they visit and one day up at the end of the road right on the border of
the wilderness area I met a man who was there to bury his mom. Like I may not have mentioned odd things
happen up here.
Both cases, salmon and burial guy, demonstrated a conviction
and determination that made me wonder and created a Déjà vu that I couldn’t
place at first.
Take the spawning salmon I watched building their nests. They were born out front of the cabin and
swam downriver to the ocean avoiding damns and predators. They, the salmon, mucked about in the ocean
for a while, got horny and decided to swim back home.
On their four river, one lake, 532 river mile trip they
avoided nets, hooks [mostly mine] turbines of about seven dams then taking two left turns
and a right made it in front of a cabin in the middle of nowhere to build
their nests, screw and die.
Amazing! That determination. That conviction. Déjà vu.
Some days later in the long shadows of fall I drove up to
the end of the road where trail-heads lead to some of the most remote land in
Washington. Standing on a Forest Service
walking bridge I looked up river to a waterfall and downstream to another. There I met a man.
He walked limping with a stick and as he came down the hill to
the middle of the bridge where I stood he said “I talk a lot.” He went on to explain that he talks a lot
because for a year and a half he was stroke ridden and could not communicate. Wow, here was a man walking and talking in remote Washington that
couldn’t do either for a year and a half.
Without questioning he explained to me that his mom died a
week ago and she wanted to be buried up there [don’t freak he had ashes, I
hope]. His unwavering determination and
conviction was another déjà vu.
On the way back down to the cabin I kept wondering about the
déjà vu thing. Finally it dawned on
me. My déjà vu was what I’ve seen in the
Chemo Room, determination and conviction.
No matter how ill the renter of the Chemo Chair of the day, if you look,
if you have the balls to look, deep into the renters eyes you will see under
the pain, illness, and misery conviction
and determination.
I’ve started looking the world in the eye because I
learned those few days in the mountains, coupled with some days renting a Chemo
Chair, that determination and conviction add up to inspiration.
Though on some days it seems I have none of either. If I look deep into my eyes while looking at myself
in a mirror I see determination and conviction and I know what that equation
sums to…inspiration.
Talk to you later and good thoughts to those on the East
Coast.
