I’m ‘yaking… in the moment
it’s all rhythmic breath and movement
repetition washes cares and stress away
conscious thought is dissipated
while the ‘I’ in me gets faded
attuned to all 6 senses, I awake
and gently dip my paddle
feel vibrations ‘long the handle
play of currents in the water and the air
this subtle information
like ‘artistic inspiration’
determines how each ‘next’ stroke should be placed
without rushing or resisting
more like, fluid, co-existing
I let the air and water do the work
‘plant’ my paddle, slide my hips
and my whole craft lightly slips
smoothly ‘cross the surface of the stream
it’s moving ‘meditation
I’m creator and creation
in tune with Mother Nature, and at peace
While kayaking, recently, I got playing with my paddle and stroke. By paying ‘thoughtless’ attention to the constant stream of information I got from the boat, paddle, and my body, I stumbled upon something rather amazing. If I leaned forward a little, ‘planted’ my paddle in the water like a ski pole into snow, and – rather than dragging the water past me – simply slid my lower body and the boat around it past the paddle, I could move much smoother and easier past my it, in a desired direction.
As odd as it may sound, the first time I felt it happen, I was surprised.
After all, we tend to perceive water as being ‘fluid’ and innately ‘yielding’. So, the idea of being able to ‘plant’ the paddle into it and having the water ‘hold’ the paddle still hadn’t occurred to me. As soon as I recognized the phenomenon, however, I simultaneously recognized that ‘perceptions’ can be deceptive, and that changing one’s perspective can also change one’s experience of something.
If you, carefully, dip your hand into a pond, for example, the water’s surface yields, gently, allowing your hand to submerge itself. If you drop a body from hundreds of feet onto a pond, however, its surface will feel more like concrete, and that body might even bounce across it a few times like a skipping stone before the loss of velocity and such will allow it to sink past the surface. Thus, while water seems fluid and yielding, it can also be experienced as solid or unyielding… even unyielding enough to ‘plant’ something into it.
Now, I can’t wait to get back out on the water and play with this and, possibly, perfect the technique before the kayaking season ends. With practice, I may be able to build muscle memory to the point that I won’t have to re-learn it next year, and it might help to alleviate the chronic tendinitis I’ve suffered for years.
I also suspect that, having seen this example of the affects of perception upon experience in kayaking, I’ll be able to translate it to other areas of my life, which may lead to new and useful perceptions and experiences elsewhere.
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