Back in my 30s, I went on a weeklong canoe trip to the Boundary Waters in northern Minnesota. It was a true wilderness experience – no cell phone reception, no electricity, no corner grocery. We lived for seven days with two canoes, a tent and the food we could carry on our backs.
Our route took us on a meandering loop through seven different lakes. The hardest part was portaging between lakes when we carried all our gear and the canoes upside down over our heads.
I learned that my body could do so much more than I thought it could. Although I wasn’t strong enough to flip the canoe over, get it up on my shoulders and still be able to walk, I could carry the gear.
I discovered I loved paddling. It became meditative, and in the quiet, I noticed the vortex created by the oar dipping into the water. This sight somehow transported me and gave me the stamina to paddle for several hours without needing to rest.
Out there alone with just two other people and a dog, we relied on each other. One night a big storm blew in. If one of us was injured or our gear or supplies ruined, there would be no easy way to get assistance. We were acutely aware of this because a few years prior, a tornado had ripped through the area. Everywhere we went, we saw the damage that had been done by the strength of the wind – big trees snapped in half like toothpicks and debris still littering the forests. We had heard the stories of the people who had lived through this and how it took some of them a week or more to get back to base camp.
We were well aware that in a tent miles away from others, we were at the mercy of the elements. Huddled in our shelter, we prayed and waited for the storm to pass. Eventually it did. Everything was soaked – our tent, our gear, our clothes. Luckily most of our food was in cans or pouches. We discovered one of our canoes floating in the lake. One my friends dove in and recovered it. She was our hero, and other than a few minor dents, the canoe was still usable.
It was a magical experience.
But even more than the beautiful nature scenery and the time with my friends, the memory I carry with me most from the trip was how it challenged my beliefs.
It began before I even left home. My friends had gone shopping with me and helped me get the right gear. When I got my personal supplies back home, I was puzzled by the down sleeping bag. I tried multiple times and several different ways to fold it as small as possible, but no matter what I did, it wouldn’t fit in its carrying case. Eventually out of frustration, I called my friend and she reminded me that it’s called a “stuff sack” for a reason. Once I let go of trying to do things neat and orderly and just stuffed it in the bag, miraculously it fit! I recognized this as a piece of familial programming – to try to control and force things around us to bend to our will. It also spoke to rigid expectations and the need to sometimes think outside the box.
Even though I had been asked to bring a pair of water sandals, the first morning of the trip I was shocked to realize I’d have to step in the water to get into the canoe. I even said out loud with much dismay, “You mean I have to step into the water and get my feet wet?!?” Luckily my friends just said yes and saved any snarky comments for themselves. I could feel them rolling their eyes and thinking, “Gosh, this is going to be a long trip if she whines about getting her feet wet every time!” I realized that this was part of what I signed up for and surrendered to the adventure.
In our pre-planning, I was told we’d be eating instant oatmeal for breakfast because it’s easily portable and it only requires hot water – easy enough when you have a campfire. I turned up my nose at this because, even though I had never tried it, I thought I didn’t like oatmeal. This was also some leftover childhood programming. My mother didn’t like oatmeal, so we never had it for breakfast. And because she didn’t like it, I always assumed I didn’t either. I was shocked to find out I loved it. Although as my friends said, “Everything tastes better around a campfire.”
I was reminded several times to let go of what I thought I knew and be open to new experiences. It was an object lesson in how old leftover beliefs of the past can be carried in to the present even though they are no longer true. These limiting beliefs can be uncomfortable and hold us back from fully enjoying life.
This canoe trip shattered my assumptions in many helpful ways. As a result, I became less rigid in my thinking and got curious about other limiting beliefs I might have. This lesson served me well.
This work is real, and it matters.
(I was unable to find my photos from the trip, so these are stock images from Canva. They are representative of the scenery in the Boundary Waters.)
September 27, 2021