The book I’m reading, about a couple who met while kayaking, made me ask, why do I love kayaking so much. I first thought of the physical, living beauty surrounding me on the water. The sky above, sunny or threatening rain; the water, alive with plants and critters; the trees on the shore, reflecting in the water. Then there’s the joy in the serenity and the silence. That’s what nature is, pretty much, serenity and silence, or returning easily to that state after all mother nature dishes out. Describing my love for kayaking made me compare this to my every day existence, wondering why it doesn’t matter that serenity is often times missing and silence not treasured. My conclusion demands change. What surrounds me represents things to take care of, so my time is spent in ways contrary to serenity and silence. I need more of what I find on the water. So I’m going to rearrange the clutter – out with stuff to take care of and things that just occupy my time, and in with all I love to do, like music, painting, and woodworking. It’s another change, one of selective vision, seeing myself, every day, on the water.