Rainbow Connection

"I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast."

-Alice Kingsley, Alice in Wonderland

It takes me ten minutes to figure out the best way to negotiate the waves. Paddling into them means I'm heading farther out to sea and the waves are so high and close together I don't have time to climb them so the water continually breaks over the bow threatening to pull me under. If I turn north I'll be side swiped and risk rolling over.

I know I have to tack but I can't keep the kayak on course until I've mastered paddling with a rudder. The waters are confused - the current moving south, the tide rolling in from the east and a furious wind creating top waves from the north, blowing salt water into my eyes- and I am afraid. Terrified in fact. All I want is to head back to shore and wait for calmer seas.

That's a lie. That's almost all I want.

There's a part of me, a small part in the face of this chaotic foe, that refuses to admit defeat. That Part wants to tame the water so I'll never have to be afraid. That Part wants to make the sea my b*tch. That Part also knows the sea is formidable and, put in proper perspective, I am nothing more than a shark snack floating around in a twig. That Part knows the only thing it has any hope of taming is my fear. So it tells my fear to sit down, shut up and dig deep.

I use my nerves and fear to power my strokes but I'm exhausted after a mile. Just a few more feet, That Part repeatedly coaches. Then the rain begins. In less than a minute I am blinded by not only the salt water spray but a wall of water that seems to be simultaneously rising up from the sea as it falls from the sky. I pull my paddle up and try to think but I don't have time. The waves are battering me on three sides and one catches my right blade, nearly tossing me over. I want to go to shore but from what I could see before the rain started, there's nowhere safe to land.

I remember my Sinsei, "Do not exert yourself, except on an exhale. You will waste your energy and defeat yourself before striking down your enemy." I focus on my breathing, synchronize my exhalations to my paddle strokes but every time a wave crests over my bow the slap rings in my ears,  the word "defeat" echoing from the insult. That Part, which has grown exponentially over the last mile and a half and is larger now than any fear, answers simply, "F--- you and your defeat." I paddle this way for about another half mile, vaguely aware that my arms are screaming for mercy, but I am no longer in my body. I am nothing but breath and motion.

And then the sun sweeps in and I glide through the watery wall as if into the clearing of an entirely new world. To my left is a long stretch of deserted white sand beach. I'd be a fool not to head to shore. I look right, towards a string of mountainous islands rising up from the sea, and am paralyzed by awe. Sprawled across the sky in a triumphant arc is a technicolour rainbow more vivid than a Dali painting.  

When I remember to breathe again I think I must take a picture, but just as the thought enters my mind another wave batters me from the side and I realize it's impossible. For a fleeting second I am disappointed before That Part says, No, this moment, that rainbow, is mine. I earned it.

I navigate through the troughs as best I can but I'm sloppy, though not graceless, from the exhaustion and the distraction of the bow tied sky. I think of last summer, rainbow hunting with my father. I think of double rainbow guy. I think of Noah and great big boats and promises. The last of my fear dissipates and the paddling becomes harder without it to fuel me. The waves are still high and chaotic, the wind is still a brutal force against me, but with the painted sky above me I forget all about going ashore.