Generational Water Balance

Abstract

It was a peaceful parcel of land, appropriately nicknamed Doc's Haven. Not surprisingly, the owner was a doctor, the kind who carried a black doctor's bag packed with medical supplies and instruments during the day and who, after dinner with his wife, sons, and daughter, grabbed his black bag and went out on house calls to check on his patients.

When he was at Doc's Haven, he replaced his black doctor's bag with a bulky metal fisherman's tackle box stuffed with lures. Only at Doc's Haven on Bear Island, with a fishing rod in hand and Lake Winnipesaukee stretching out before him, was he finally able to relax. Everything about this place, especially the New Hampshire lake water, was peaceful and restorative.

I personally know the powerful peacefulness of Doc's Haven. Each summer while I was growing up, I spent at least two weeks there, often overlapping with the doctor's visits, spending time on the water fishing with him and rummaging through his tackle box. The doctor was my grandfather—he would be 120 years old this year if he were still with us—and his daughter is my mother. I was the first of the next generation and happened to be born on my grandfather's birthday. To this day, my mother still recalls time at Doc's Haven, with family, as some of her most treasured memories. And she is not alone; we all feel that way, including my siblings and cousins.

It is only in hindsight that I can say my love for water first began during those summers on Lake Winnipesaukee. I certainly could not explain it at the time, but like my mother and grandfather, I felt peace, happiness, and confidence by simply being around water.

While I can peg many of my significant, youthful, life moments to water, including my college entrance essay, I did not have an awareness that water could be a career. It was just water, after all—not a job. As it turns out, even the magic of water cannot cure youthful career naiveté.

Little did I know that, years later, after a couple of decades working as a water professional, Wallace J. Nichols would write an inspiring book, Blue Mind (published in 2014) that would explain why being on, near, and around water makes us happier, more connected, and better at what we do. The explanations in the book provided helpful context for my water experiences.

I first picked up Blue Mind on an airplane flight and couldn’t put it down. It reminded me why I fell in love with water in the first place. Growing up in the water-rich regions of New England and the Pacific Northwest, I was surrounded by it, loved it, and unknowingly often took it for granted. Then, living in the beautiful but dry West, I found myself happily and proudly working in water and for water. I was surrounded by its importance and community impact. I loved it, and I never took it for granted—it was water, after all—not just a job. Yet I felt detached from water personally. Somehow, the balance of my personal and professional engagement with water had silently shifted 180 degrees. Something had to change.

In 2011, Charles Fishman wrote a book titled The Big Thirst. In it he focuses on the future of water but also includes a short piece, also quoted by Nichols in Blue Mind, on how water makes us feel. Here is what Fishman said: “It's hard to be in a bad mood around beautiful flowing water. Whatever cares you have are lightened when you spend some time with water. The presence of a brisk, bright mountain stream makes you smile, it makes you feel better, whether you’re already feeling good or you’re low.” The inspiring takeaway of this quote by Fishman and the key messages of Nichols is that while we are fortunate to be water professionals, we can be even better professionally if we spend time being on, near, and around water. That is a win–win, if you ask me.

Today, inspired by Blue Mind, the balance is back, even here in the arid West. Following in the footsteps of my grandfather, I found, with my own family, a peaceful cabin near water and, as a bonus, Colorado mountains. Like Doc's Haven, it is a place where our family can gather and where, hopefully, powerful memories are created, and relationships with water and nature are born. And maybe, just maybe, a granddaughter sees her love for water as a reason to pursue a water career (ideally without the youthful career naiveté of her grandfather).