Paddleboarding and a Reunion in Atlanta

Waking up yesterday on the lake was one of life’s simple pleasures.  I opened the blinds, and looked out to see the sun high above the water (sleeping in is also one of life’s simple pleasures).  Stephanie and I ate breakfast with her family, then she taught me how to paddleboard.


For those not in the know, paddleboards are bigger surfboards with a greater ability to balance.  You’re supposed to stand upright on them, propelling yourself across the water with an oar, looking a little like Jesus on a Segway.  My comparison to Jesus is intentional, because watching Stephanie navigate gracefully over the water looked like some kind of supernatural miracle.  And I very rarely experience miracles.

Since I can barely swim in an ocean with high buoyancy levels, I knew death was immanent if I fell off the paddleboard.  On went my lifejacket, and then Stephanie helped me kneel on my paddleboard.  I moved forward with my oar, and she praised me very highly, like a child taking their first shaking steps.  Like a child, I blossomed under her praise and stopped sitting on my heels, balancing on my knees instead.

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