Stress Proof

Bayou Adventures and Life Lessons About Karma

Tanya and I were wondering what adventure we might embark on after getting a surprise kid-free night.

“Oh, I know!  You wanna go on a kayaking trip?”  I asked my darlin’ wife.

“You don’t think it’s too cold for that?” she replied.

“It’s fine.  It’s not like we are swimming in it.  Low forties now means it’ll still be in the high thirties when we are wrapping up at sunset.  Can you imagine catching the sunset from the bayou!?” I said.

It’s a damn good thing I had been resilience training to make myself stress-proof, for what happened later ended up being a humorous inconvenience rather than a life threatening event.

The air was crisp in that way you only feel in Louisiana after a cold front has kept the temperature below freezing for a few days.  The sky was cloud free, and it was cold enough, for long enough, that most of the trees were bare.  

Twenty minutes into our trip, we found ourselves sharing a narrow irrigation canal with a fisherman in a twelve foot aluminum boat.  He had the manners to slow his boat to a crawl so his wake didn’t disturb each of our kayaks.  We shared some minor cordial chit-chat, and while many lone fishermen in the back of beyond bayous are a bit reserved, he was incredibly pleasant and outgoing.  He left us with a statement that still echoes in my head as if he just said it.

“It’s a great day to be on the water, but I wouldn’t want to go in!  Hyghuk, Hyghuk, Hyghuk, Hyghuk!!”  (Listen to the audio for the full effect of this laugh.  It’s somewhere between Krusty the Clown from the Simpsons and Troy the cajun alligator hunter from the reality show Swamp People.)

Now, of course a boisterous laugh like that was so infectious, after he left I couldn’t help but reproduce it again and again for comedic effect.  I started repeating the phrase, not because I thought it ridiculous, but because it was just that damn funny.  “It’s a great day to be on the water, but I wouldn’t want to go in!  Hyghuk, Hyghuk, Hyghuk, Hyghuk!!”

“Stop picking on that nice man!”  Tanya said through tears of laughter.

“I’m not picking on him,  Hyghuk, Hyghuk, Hyghuk, Hyghuk!!”

Well, nature did what nature does, and I paid for my mocking laughter way sooner than I expected.

“My ass is going numb, I don’t know if I’m hallucinating, but it seems like there is way more water in my boat than there should be.”

Thanks to the ice baths I had been taking, I know the manhood shrinking water in my boat was approximately 39 degrees Fahrenheit, plus or minus about 6 degrees or so.

“What do you want to do?” Tanya asked.

“There’s nothing I can do right now.  Let’s just keep going and see what happens.” I replied.

I found out that when a boat starts taking on water, that process speeds up the more water you take on.  I turned around and the rear portion of my kayak was underwater.  That’s bad, just so you know.  We still had two hours left in our journey, and only two and a half hours till sunset.  You know that saying, “Up a creek without a paddle?”  This was way worse.  If we couldn’t make it back before the sun set, I would end up spending the night soaking wet in sub-freezing weather on the banks of the bayous in Louisiana where critters love to eat you.

Thanks to the resilience training I started after nearly losing my life to chronic overstress, (see my article The Rebirth of a Workaholic for more about that incident) I kept calm and stayed in good humor.  My presence of mind made Tanya feel comfortable enough to get a gut busting laugh at my expense while I swam to shore towing my boat.  She continued laughing and even filmed me while I stood on the muddy banks draining my boat among the alligators and venomous snakes.  I was barefoot, and I kept expecting to feel a slithering across my feet while I stood there cussing up a storm.  

We arrived at the boat launch after dusk but before pitch blackness set in.  Although I stopped multiple times to drain my boat along the way, the people at the dock looked at me strangely when I pulled in with the back half of my boat underwater.  My hands were so cold they couldn’t operate the straps that secured the kayaks to my truck.  I had to wait for the truck heater to warm my hands enough so we could strap in and head home.  I shivered more violently than I ever shivered in the hours that followed, but the steaks I cooked on the grill could not have tasted any better.

Three lessons were solidified in my mind that day.

 Lesson #1 - Avoiding stress makes us weak.  Using the 4% rule - pushing myself 4% outside of my comfort zone at regular intervals - made slow incremental progress that was barely noticeable until it helped me face down a significant hardship without being knocked off balance.  The downside - I became so stress adapted, I am now addicted to stress and don’t feel normal without facing difficult situations.  Whoops.  This is the same thing that happens to people who constantly find themselves in abusive relationships…when things are easy, it’s uncomfortable so they will start a fight just to feel alive again.  I’m working on that stress addiction now, which to me is harder because it requires letting go and relaxing.

Lesson #2 - Even the most stressful situations are easy to handle if you have the right company with you.  In the past, I isolated myself when I struggled with difficult situations because I thought I needed to be tough and handle it all on my own.  With the right people in my corner, even the most difficult situations seem trivial and even humorous.  I’m very grateful to have my wife in my corner to laugh at me when things get tough.

Lesson #3 - Karma is a motherfucking bitch.

In other news:

Tanya Smart and I are working on our Anti-Grind Self Mastery Program, and it’s freaking exciting.  When we started our accountability community, we found we have a knack for helping hardworking dreamers take charge of their own lives so they can start building their own dream instead of working to fill somebody else’s pockets.  Increasing stress tolerance, showing up with endless energy, and staying in a better mood helps to consistently do impactful work without losing ourselves to the “grind.”  After being self-improvement junkies for years, we grew sick of hustle culture and the just work harder mentality prevalent in the rah rah toxic positivity personal development space, and decided to do something about it.  Enter our Anti-Grind Self Mastery Program, where we do work that matters, with less discipline than you thought you needed, to create a life we are proud of, right now.   

That day on the bayou reminded me of why we are starting the Anti-Grind Self Mastery Program—life throws curveballs, but with the right mindset, you can laugh even as you’re dragging a sinking boat in near freezing water.  

Subscribe to my Substack if you haven’t already to stay up to date on upcoming program details.  Thanks so much for playing along!

Here is a video of the incident. Do not watch if you are sensitive to someone cussing like a sailor. (Pun intended)