“Let me not hear facts, figures and logic; fain would I hear lore, legends and magic.”
(From “Roots of Oak” by Donovan)
What is magical thinking? I first encountered this phrase in an article about grief. A man had died of cancer and his 11-year old daughter thought she was responsible for her father’s death because in the past she had wished he was dead. That’s one example. Some people seem to have an affinity for this type of thinking, others not. For instance, my parents are stone cold atheists. For them nothing exists except what we can see and touch. On the other hand, I have been a magical thinker all my life. Eric Soares was also a magical thinker and it enriched his life and helped him be the great sea kayaker he was.
For the girl whose father died, magical thinking trapped her in guilt. But this type of thinking can have a positive influence too. Eric thought of himself as a Sea King. It sounds grandiose, but if you check out his photos and videos you’ll see it’s not inappropriate. His image of himself as a Sea King gave him power on the water. Here is a poem he wrote that expresses his vision:
The Sea King Returns
My people sailed the oceans of the water planet.
We used the earth’s magnetism for energy…
Developed the planet’s civilizations…
Established outposts…
Communicated with this world and others…
Inspired legends…
And left.
We planted seeds before we departed.
The seeds sprouted, flourished, flowered.
Now they bear fruit.
The ocean people return to the water planet.
The time is now. The magmatic magnetism
Is back. The volcanoes erupt, the earth shakes.
The sea king has returned.
He searches for his sea queen.
She will come back to the sea.
Soon.
Like a latter day Pied Piper Eric’s magnetic personality gathered like-minded people around him to share his vision. This concept developed into a tribal culture, an alternative lifestyle Eric and his best friend Jim Kakuk called HELL (see “Sea Kayaking is HELL”). The greater part of this lifestyle involves seeking freedom and transformation through sea kayaking. One of the Tsunami Rangers’ goals is to find places no one else goes in order to get away from Herberts, a nickname they picked up from an episode of the original Star Trek. (According to Spock, Herbert was a minor official notorious for his rigid and limited patterns of thinking.)
The Tsunami Rangers favor small groups, alter egos, secret place names, and pirate or gypsy costume. Their annual Sea Gypsy Race embodied this alternative concept, with no insurance, no commercial sponsors, and no official recognition other than that of the participants. Anyone who paddles in this race or in its more recent manifestation Reef Madness pretty much does it for the hell of it (drum roll please). First prize could turn out to be a mutant lemon the size of a cantaloupe. And you might break your boat.
Slots and punchbowls, caves and arches, reefs and sea stacks, the jubilant abundance of marine life, all these things create a world that calls the adventurer to explore deeper and deeper. The deeper we travel into this wild world, like Alice falling down the rabbit hole, the further behind we leave the mundane and tame. As with all magical places, there is darkness, confusion and fear. But these are things to overcome – the knight slays the dragon, the frog turns into a prince, Cinderella rises from the ashes. And we return from our adventure stronger, more alive, with joy in our hearts, a sparkle in our eyes, and a tale to tell.
Just as the veil between the Seen and Unseen is thinnest at dawn and dusk, the veil is also thin at the places where earth and water meet. Anywhere there is an edge, a seam as it were in the world or in our selves, that’s where transformation occurs. Eric was all about transformation at the edge. He actively sought and found transcendence there, and those of us who followed him to that edge were transformed as well. Eric loved the ocean and he believed that it loved him in return. That attitude allowed him to engage the ocean on an intimate level.
Then there are omens. Propitiating the sea gods is an ancient practice. After all, sailors are among the most superstitious of people. Before they venture out, the Tsunami Rangers perform a salutation to the sea. The first time I kayaked after Eric died I went out with Tsunami Rangers Jim Kakuk and Scott Becklund. As we prepared to launch, I asked Jim what about a salutation. He said, “You do it”. I’m not a Ranger and I always salute the water in my own way, so I did Surya Namaskar, the yoga sun salutation. Just as we assumed plank position, our hands in the sand as we faced the sea, an energetic little wave swept in and swirled around our wrists as though the ocean was inviting us to play. We took that as an auspicious omen and we had an amazing day.
And let’s not forget the Balrog. Anyone familiar with J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings knows about the Balrog. For the Tsunami Rangers, the Balrog dwells at the back of sea caves. You can hear him roar from time to time. When you do, you don’t go in there. Eric loved this idea so much he had a friend create this picture:
On another note, Tsunami Ranger Michael Powers practices rune reading. On February 1, the day Eric died, Michael drew the rune for Breakthrough Transformation Day. He sent me the reading. Here are a few choice bits: “Drawing Dagaz marks a major shift or breakthrough in the process of self-change, a complete transformation…For some the transition is so radical that they no longer continue to live the ordinary life in the ordinary way…the magnitude of the transformation might be so total as to portend a death…” There are over 50 of these runes and each can be read two ways so the likelihood of drawing such a relevant reading on that particular day would seem to be slim. But there it is.
Whether or not they are magical thinkers most sea kayakers are answering the call of the sea and what is that but magical? How can the sea call to us? What do we hear? Yet off we go on our adventures, whether on a major expedition or a short estuarine paddle. And each time we come back with a story, and we are transformed, however slightly, by our experience. If Eric had not been a magical thinker the Tsunami Rangers would never have come to be. I believe the more we open to magic the more it enters and supports our lives. But it only comes to those who have eyes to see and ears to hear. As Jon Turk would say, every moment of our lives we have the choice whether or not to engage the magic. For my part, I choose to engage. A world without magic would be dull indeed.
Do you believe in magic? Can it affect our lives? Our kayaking? Share your thoughts by clicking below.
Hi Nancy and Happy New Year!
What a wonderful post and tribute to the living and manifesting life with Magical thinking! Don Diego is smiling and will be making more magic as many of us read that post. I totally agree that Don Diego Erikur lived the life of magical thinking, and that he and Jim shared that passion with the Tsunami Rangers and in fact that is one of the core values of Rangers, going to edges, creating new magic together and tuning into the magic of the Universe. Never really met anyone who made created such an integrated way dreaming and living the magic. That is the only way to really live, as life can be an illusion, the “Maya” or mystery of the Universe only reveals itself via the magic, in those edges.
I for one feel changed forever to have been in the sphere and realm of Don Diegos Magical thinking, way of being on and in the water and in the world in general! Paddling with him and the Ranger tribe was and is a transformative experience, hard to describe with so many magical aspects. The challenge for some of us is to retain that magical way of being and thinking everyday, like a meditation but still stopping at red lights and fulfilling obligations.
So heres to you, Don Diego, Jim and the world as we dream it and create it, each magical moment the next magical moment!
Hi Steve, good to hear from you. Thanks for your comment and I’m so glad you enjoyed the article. Eric’s point of view wasn’t unique but it certainly was unusual, especially in someone who was so successful professionally as, of all things, a business professor. And that’s what I love about all the Rangers and the tribe – the magic coupled with the tremendous talent and practical ability, both on and off the water. It’s difficult to find people who are magical thinkers but who aren’t so woo-woo as to drive you up the wall!
Love to you and the King family!
“If there is magic on this planet it is contained in water” (Loren Eisely)
Children understand the concept of magical thinking and we can learn from them. Fantasy is fun and believing is reality enough. Where there is water there is life, the ocean is a bowl of magical life and the kayak is a vessel to access that arena. “floatation is groovy” (Jimi Hendrix)
Life is made up of little pieces and can be confusing but sometimes it is clear and a vision comes to us in an instant of realization. “Grokk” is to have a thorough understanding of a subject, the word comes from Robert Heinlein’s “Stranger in a Strange Land” and it means “to drink” in Martian. Eric was a master at understanding complex situations and finding a simple answer or a solution quickly, he was a wizard. Kayaking on the edge is where the transformation takes place. Watching the sunset and the magic of evening light after a day on the water one can see past the veil of our limitations. Sharing the energy of the surf zone, where life began on this planet, you can feel the pulse of evolution. This is where we evolve as sentient beings of the fifth order, water being the first (Buddhism). Magical thinking is not a fanciful term it is a practical path to understanding the mystery of the sea.
Thank you Jim, that was beautiful.
“Believing is reality enough.” Yes.
“Magical thinking is not a fanciful term it is a practical path to understanding the mystery of the sea.” Yes.
I know Eric was eternally indebted to you for sharing his vision.
Another home run, Nancy! I love this blog site, because it deals with all aspects of kayaking: the body, the mind and the heart. For the body and the mind, we need to know about waves, currents, tides, surge, wind, weather, marine life, cold protection, skills, training, etc…and all of these are covered in expert fashion. For the heart we have posts like this. The “Herberts” don’t recognize the heart, but concentrate on the physical (the body) and the mind (the knowledge) It is essential to have the knowledge, but for any real enjoyment, we need to have the heart: for the sense of wonder, the joy, the connected-ness, the exuberance, the mystery, the artistry, the peace, the adrenaline rush, the freedom, the poetry, the love…yes, the magic. And it’s not like they are opposites, but they are complimentary, working together. My employment involves the hard sciences, but even there, there is an element of art. Jim mentioned “grokking” which involves not only knowledge but a hard-to-define sense of the situation, a calm state of taking it all in.
Thanks again, Nancy, for keeping this blog alive, and caring for the whole person: body, mind and heart.
Great comment, Tony, and once again, thanks so much for your support of this website and these threads.
To someone like me, “hard science” seems as magical as anything else I’ve encountered. Higgs Boson? Space exploration? Sometimes I think we’re coming full circle to a place where art, science, and magic are one.
No, not theoretical physics or space exploration…analytical toxicology is my field. You wouldn’t think that such a field would be conducive to imagination, but we have our moments, when thinking outside of the box in an imaginative fashion solves a problem, and gives a physician the answer or perspective (s)he needs. Funny you should mention space exploration, as astronomy has been a passionate interest of mine since I was quite young. And there is no better realm than the night sky, for stimulating the imagination of mankind throughout the millenia…think of all the rich mythology concerning the heavens from every culture and people on earth! A few months back, I organized a night-time paddle, which traditionally in my kayaking circles involves a full moon. I convinced the group that a better choice was a 75% moon, for then there is a terminator line with all of its rich contrast and shadows, much more interesting than a full moon. And at 75% illumination, you can still get around in a kayak at night. It was an enchanting trip! I brought along my smaller telescope (still large, but it fit, partly disassembled, in the large hatch on my Tsunami X-2). People were blown away by the views, with a wonderful lunar landscape along the terminator…sharply defined craters, mountain ranges…just beautiful. A truly magical night.
A disturbing trend I have seen these days is the over-reliance on computers, to the suppression of the human element, the “magic”. Don’t get me wrong, computers and modern technology have their place…as TOOLS. But when we hand over too much control to them, the effects can be devastating. Just think of the Star Trek episode where Capt. Kirk was replaced with a computer. Or one of my favorite stories, “2001, a Space Odyssey”, with Dave battling with, and eventually outsmarting Hal. Or think of Luke Skywalker, who, while attacking the Death Star, finally gave up on the targeting computer, listened to the inner voice, and let “the Force” guide him. Part of the “art” of my job is knowing when the computer is off-base. This happens more than you might think, as most of our instrumentation is computer-controlled. For example, we sometimes do a library search to identify the mass spectra of compounds in a clinical specimen, and at times, the computer match is just plain wrong. This is where the experience, and the “grokking” of all the data comes into play. We, as sentient beings, must NEVER hand over the final control, the last word, to a device, no matter how sophisticated. Devices simply have no soul, no heart…no magic. We must instill this into the youth of today, who, growing up in the computer age, are more prone to trust without question technology.
Tony
Wow, Tony, love your story about your night paddle. Great info for those who like to go out on full moon junkets – maybe a 75 percenter would be a better plan. Also, I know that over-reliance on gear was one of Eric’s pet peeves. With you, I understand the usefulness of technology but it can over-complicate our experience and distract us from the real world around us. “2001”, of course, is the classic example. And your point about “the Force” is well-taken. I really believe there is such a thing as the Force. Eric consciously and intentionally used it. Whether it is actually tapping in to the power of the universe or something deep within the human spirit, it’s there and it can help us. Technology has many limitations, and as you so rightly point out; no soul, no magic.
Funnily enough, I had the Charter guy out to fix my cable today and he spun me a yarn about how he went to a seminar recently about how technology has made our lives easier. He disagrees, and gave me some great examples. But that’s another topic 😉
Yeah, the GPS and other such technologies are great, but know how to navigate when it fails!
The 75% illuminated moon is a great idea if you are using optical aids…doesn’t have to be a telescope, as even binoculars will give great views of craters, mountains, etc. Without optical aids, you won’t see these anyway, so a full moon is fine.
Sorry to hear about your dad.
Tony
Great topic Nancy!
I do believe in magic. I’ve always been interested in works of Carlos Castañeda, Joseph Campbell, J.R.R. Tolkien and many others.
When Eric commissioned me to make the Tsunami Rings, the gold was liquified with an oxy-propane torch, I threw a slip of paper into it where I had written the Opening and Closing Tsunami Haiku. I discussed this with him and he thought it would be a good idea, and it had a certain Tolkein feel to it. I’ve seen this done during the casting of bells for Buddhist temples. It is believed that by doing this, the Haiku becomes part of the casting. After the gold had been cast, I quenched it in sea water that I had collected during a really good kayak surfing session. It seemed the right way of doing it.
I remember racing at one of the Sea Gypsy Races. Eric had a Native American Shaman performing a blessing for the race. Participants could receive a personal blessing also, I gladly accepted having sea water spinkled on me, and the sage smoke wafted over me. I returned relatively unscathed. As Eric put it: “We an’t got no insurance, but we do have assurance!” I’ve loved this approach ever since I’ve known about the Tsunami Rangers.
I still hear the call of the sea, and wish to commune with the Water Elementals. Some of my most blissful experiences have involved water. Goin’ surfing this weekend!
“Follow your bliss and the universe will open doors where there were only walls.”
Joseph Campbell
Rainer
Thanks for commenting, Rainer. I love the story about how you made the Tsunami rings. Eric had told me about that, but I had forgotten. He really loved his ring.
So here’s another story. My dad died Thursday morning. He was admitted to the hospital Wednesday night. For some reason, I chanted the Heart Sutra mantra over him: “Gate, gate, paragate, parasamhgate, bodhi, svaha!” (Gone, gone, all the way gone, everybody gone all the way to the other shore, enlightenment, welcome/aha!) When I got home I went to Eric’s altar and asked him to help my dad, if it was possible. Next morning I went for a short walk. Once again, I felt moved to chant the mantra and did not stop the whole time I was walking. As soon as I got back from my walk I got the phone call that my dad had passed peacefully, literally while I was walking and chanting. Who knows how these things work? But I think it helped.
This is such a beautiful post, Nancy! I love to read your eloquent reflections and ponder on Eric’s amazing life and how he touched us all so deeply.
Glad you’re enjoying the blog, Patty, and thanks so much for your kind words of support. This blog has been a huge solace to me over the last year, and I’m happy to be able to share Eric’s thoughts and writings. He still has a lot to contribute.
I loved this post. For me, paddling caused me to re-discover magical thinking. Oddly… contrarily… I was enchanted by downwind paddling (having been taken out on a double surf-ski off the coast of Western Australia), but was scared of the ocean. How to resolve this? It came to me, as I sat staring out at the ocean – DRAGONS!
Now I chase green dragons. Sometimes I ride green dragons. Often I tumble with them.
There are big dragons and baby dragons. There are dragons that only skilled watermen and women can ride. I have heard tell of dragons no one can ride.
Often I catch a dragon and slide from his tail, or tip off his wing. If I have been too cocky, and tried for a dragon beyond my skill, it will flick its tail or shake its head and unseat me. I have fallen off the nose of a dragon.
There is no malevolence in a dragon. They are just complete in their dragon-ness, doing their dragon-thing – flying and swooping and tumbling.
I’m not scared of dragons.
Kassie, I love your story! Thanks so much for commenting. You have found a beautiful way of visualizing and describing the ocean. I will remember your words the next time I’m out there. So glad you enjoyed the post and so glad you found a way to interact with the ocean in a way that works for you. FYI – for more on ocean dragons check out THe Ocean Dragons at http://theoceandragons.blogspot.com.es/
Nice pictures, I like the Armour on the TW in the Balrog pic. Awesome! I got some ideas to bring out some old Ski Jumping Armour I used to wear, some kind of Hocky pads I think 🙂
Hi Leo! Glad you were inspired by the armor. Check out our post on armor for extreme sea kayakers at https://tsunamirangers.com/2011/11/28/armor-extreme-sea-kayakers/ for more pics and why you might want armor in the first place 🙂