I was convinced the canoes were staged.

I was in a place known for their magical experiences, but who would put a dozen and a half people in a canoe who potentially had never canoed before and have them navigate over a quarter of a mile around an island? I assumed there was some sort of track under the water, perhaps attached to the canoe by strong cables.

I was wrong. It was a true canoe experience. Well, with a capable person giving instructions and corrections from the bow and a well-trained and very strong person in the stern, making up for whatever weaknesses each crew brought with them. I was impressed. Of course, there were plenty of precautions, including a well built, broad canoe with minimal risks of flipping and life jackets for everyone.

At a place where many people slide into the seats of a ride and sit back for the thrill, here was an option requiring a bit more effort and focus.

As I caught glimpses of the canoes from a variety of vantage points around the water, I chastised myself for making an assumption so quickly. We don’t always see what’s beneath the surface. Maybe we don’t think much of anything is there, or perhaps we create a world that doesn’t exist. What makes us think otherwise? Are we willing to consider we’re wrong? How willing are we to consider the possibilities of the truth? Whether or not a canoe is self-guided or mechanical isn’t of paramount importance, but the implications spread to what we assume about people around us, what we are willing to question about dynamics and situations, what we’re willing to reflect about ourselves. It’s important to know what we can fully depend on as truth with a period behind it, what needs an exclamation point, and what requires a question mark. The punctuation of our approach and attitude matters.

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