The first time I ever sat on a kayak, I went straight off the coast. It was fantastic. But I almost drowned. My lifejacket was too loose. When I sped in past the frighteningly choppy breakwater towards the shore, I capsized. I couldn’t touch the bottom. Worse, I couldn’t breathe. My lifejacket was pulling me upwards and the top strap was choking me. I kicked towards the shore until I could stand. It wasn’t that far away. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here to write about it. There was no fear, no real panic. Strangely, I just felt irritated at my lifejacket. Something that was supposed to save my life was choking me to death instead. I got quite philosophical about that even as I fought towards the shore.
That was four years ago.
A few Sundays ago, I went kayaking on Sungai Sarawak Kiri. It was my first on a river. Few things are as fantabulous as a flow downriver. Yes, the group was somewhat uncoordinated, to say the least. Yes, we capsized six times in all and I whacked my knee on a submerged rock, got a wonderful near-unstoppable wound and almost cracked my patella. But as long as it didn’t wipe the smile off of my face, it was all good. I was with a group of friends whose company I thoroughly enjoyed, the river was perfect, the rain was perfect, the durians were perfect.
A week after that, I got invited for another kayaking adventure down the same river. That was when I first felt the semblance of zen on a kayak.
“Kayaking is meditative,” said my Sifu Master Kayak Yoda Superman. “There are an infinity of ways that the downstroke of the paddle cuts through the ether and into the water”. OK, so he didn’t quite use those words. But Yoda couldn’t have said it better.
Well, I’m far from Kayak Yoda level, but when I was on the water, I did notice how flow of life is not dissimilar to the flow of water in a river:
Sometimes, there are ominous rocks under the surface, waiting to whack the patella of your life. Other times, you go through a rapid or two. It can be exhilarating and you go “Woo hoo!” because you made it through. Or it’s “Ouch!” and other expletives when you capsize. Either way, you survive and you move on with the flow of the river. Most of the time, it’s serene and utterly beautiful. You can busy yourself paddling away, or you can stop and take it all in.
Here are a few observations that struct me when I was on the water:
- I love paddling in the rain. You’re already wet. Forget the umbrella. Embrace the rain.
- The same river looks different 10 different ways the 10 different times you paddle on it. Enjoy it every time.
- I paddle with a partner. If I stop, or if she stops, it’s easier to get into trouble. Depending on a friend is not a weakness.
- There are many revelations in the downstroke of a paddle, or in the way you grip it, or in the way you guide the paddle through the water. Being present in all that we do brings many rewards in the way life reveals itself and how we perceive it.
There’s a lot more to kayaking that meets the eye. There’s a lot more that I could learn, but these five are my favourite.
