Sylvia's Journal

My workday yesterday was punctuated by wonderful distractions, starting with an early rise that led me into my Outlook task box. I am chipping away at both tasks and email and discovered a great way to get rid of more than a hundred messages: I asked my Gmail account to download from my MSH account and something went wrong and suddenly my MSH inbox was empty. No one yelled at me. I think I am going to try this again when there are too many MSH emails.

The next piece of work was my visit to the physical therapist who measured my right arm’s movement. At one point she moved it too far and my entire body sized up producing some dismal measurements. Later, when she observed me doing the over-the-head-with-a-stick exercise she noted a 40% discrepancy with her measurement and corrected it upward. Of the 180% I need to reach I am already at 150%, with no pain. I feel very ready to abandon the sling.

After a brief interruption of MSH work, including a call from my colleagues in Kabul, I headed out to see Abigail for my weekly massage. She tries to massage away the mess in my upper back. I was in heaven for a full hour, feeling limber and slippery from all the oil. This weekend Abi is starting a course to become an Ayurvedic practitioner; she already uses the most wonderful oils with exotic Hindi names.

The combination of sling and sitting a few more hours in front of a computer did undo much of the massage’s effects but then there was another distraction that had been planned months ago.

Armed with warm clothes, yellow rain slickers and rain pants we walked around Smith Point to join Sallie Craig, Douglas and their two friends Danny and Parker for a sail out of Manchester Harbor. The Hubers had won the sail in an auction for the Esperanza Academyl in Lawrence last year.

The weatherman had predicted storm and rain but it was the only time we could all get together and so, unfazed, we congregated at one of the more stunning houses on Manchester’s inner harbor. Douglas had quoted Axel’s most favorite saying: “there is no such thing as bad weather, only in appropriate clothing.” Hence the slickers and sweaters.

For an hour or so we beat the prediction of 70% chance of showers as we sailed fast over enormous swells with Douglas steering an obstacle course between lobster pots. After that the rains came and we all changed into our gear. Photographically this made us a much more interesting bunch because of the bright colors.

Our host Dave, who, we think, had not expected this prize would ever to be cashed in, and certainly not with yesterday’s weather predictions, served us wine, shrimp, cheese and other goodies that he handed us from below deck while we swayed back and forth with the waves. He was a gracious host and let total strangers sail his 43 foot yacht, occasionally nudging them this way or that. He embodied what, in my mind, good coaching and mentoring is all about; something about keeping an eye on the big picture combined with a good dose of trust and the joy of seeing others do well.

We arrived back at the dock just when the light started to fade. Wet and cold we were greeted by mosquitoes that must have learned that the dock is a good place to wait for food. For our own sustenance we proposed dinner at our house with the very appealing attraction of a roaring fire in the new fireplace; it was instantly accepted.  We cobbled together a dinner and toasted to our new friendship and a wonderful sail, then sat in front of the fire and discussed the state of the world.

It wasn’t until everyone had left and we considered going to bed that the phone rang with Kabul on the line. I had entirely forgotten that I wasn’t done with the workday and that there was one more meeting, with my Kabul colleagues. The call lasted until after midnight.  And now off to our next adventure: a wet and wonderful weekend on the Cape with Alison and another goodbye.