Years ago, before I had a summer (future retirement) place in Maine and before I had shoulder issues (one frozen, the other broken), I used to swim pretty regularly in the the local lake, pictured above. My friend(s) and I would meet at the school's beach (not pictured-- this is the jetty, used as a boat launch and dog beach) and swim out towards the center of the lake for a set amount of time, then turn around and come back. One morning, not unlike what you see above, a friend and I got to our "destination" and turned around to discover that we were completely enveloped in fog. We didn't know which way to swim to reach shore. If you've never swum in a lake, you might not know that it's not always easy to go in a straight line, so the obvious idea to "go in one direction until we could see land" wasn't as helpful as one might think. Fortunately, we are both strong swimmers AND we both had lifeguard tubes with us AND we weren't in a hurry to get anywhere (Yay, summer!), so we weren't in any danger, but not being able to see solid ground while we waited out the lack of visibility was disorienting and scary.
The thing is, before we left on our swim, we could see the fog rolling in. We talked about it and decided to go anyway. Until faced with the reality, we didn't understand what it would feel like to be trapped in the middle of the lake.
Unless you're ridiculously daft, you can tell that we did eventually swim to safety, as it seems highly unlikely that I would be able to bring this laptop to write a post if I were still bobbing in the water, so you don't have to worry about this story's having a tragic ending. Still, every swim after that, if we saw any fog at all, we swam side-to-side, always with a view to the land.
It was such an easy fix, but we didn't think of it until after plowing ahead with our lives in a less thoughtful way. When I think back over all the times I've left the house only later to realize I should have brought along something I left behind, I always feel foolish. It's almost never a big deal to carry an umbrella, bring a jacket, or put on bug spray or sunblock, yet somehow, I am often careless about these preparations and end up wet, cold, bitten, or burned. Seriously, how many times do I need to learn the same lessons the hard way?
The answer is more than once, which is funny because it is my job to help young people learn to be more prepared for whatever will face them in the future. When I started thinking about leading the Class of 2025 to become better at adulting, I made a list of so many things that real adults can do, but often the simplest way to sum up the whole category of skills is the same as the old scouting motto, to be prepared.
Obviously, we can't predict everything that will come our way, but we can shore up our on-hand gear, we can check the weather app, we can consider past experiences, and we can take the necessary steps to have what we need on hand. As my husband has told me, there's no such thing as bad weather, only the wrong gear.
Any good advice for being prepared? Please share your suggestions in the comments.
I prefer to make new mistakes, but it often seems I make the same ones over and over. Learning is hard!
So hard!