No, this isn’t going to be a post about my ongoing infatuation with smoothies. It’s actually going to reference something that struck me during outrigger practice on Tuesday.
“I’ve just had an apostrophe!” “I think you mean an epiphany …” (Name that movie?)
For those of you who are unfamiliar with outrigger canoeing, it’s one of those “simple yet so complicated” type things. The basic building blocks of a successful team are stroke form, power, and timing. Paddlers need these when entering and exiting their blade from the water; pulling hard and together.
It’s that third element that struck me the other day – what is sometimes called “the blend.” When a team is pulling water at the exact same time and way, the canoe actually lifts out of the water and skims the surface; giving it a natural glide that propels it magically forward. You can feel it happen, and it’s an exhilarating sensation.
That elusive glide, however, is also easy to lose.
The moment your focus on the seat ahead of you shifts, or if your mind wanders to check out a baby seal lounging adorably on a nearby dock, the entire house of cards is in jeopardy. It’s kind of mind boggling exactly how much intentional concentration you need to maintain in order to achieve “the blend.”
I have been guilty of being early in my stroke since day one. That is, my paddle tends to enter the water before the paddler in front of me, throwing off the timing. (What can I say? I’ve always been a little bit of a eager beaver - I like to go fast!) I actually nicknamed one steersperson the “Timing Nazi” because she never failed to call me out about it – sometimes by name. I would usually grit my teeth and mumble something like “yeah, yeah” in my mind, but her constant reminders proved invaluable since they forced me to learn to pay attention and conform.
I finally realized that in order to go faster, I had to slow down. (Doesn’t that sound a little profound in a Sphinx kind of way?) Not only did I need to pay attention to what was happening in front of me, I had to respond accordingly and be ready when things changed - regardless of how fast I want to go.
I don’t know about all of you, but this kind of submission does not come naturally to me; it fights against my innate subliminal instinct to not be “just another face in the crowd.” That pull to be special, intriguing, and independent - to go above and beyond the call of duty. This pressure isn’t from any outside source; it simply springs from an inner cry for attention, spurred by a desire for that precious sensation of believing I have something unique to offer the world.
In a canoe, there is simply no place for the overachiever. Your speed lives and dies together, and the ability to work and blend as one will determine your success. I haven't played on an organized team sport since high school basketball, and had almost forgotten that indescribable bond you develope as a team when you know you just couldn't have done it alone.
I suppose I was reflecting on this because of a few situations I have been in recently at work and on other projects where we started with a cohesive vision: something achievable, neat and tidy. Then someone (everyone probably has a "someone" like this in their lives) comes along and decides they can make it bigger, better, awesomer! And what ends up happening?
A befuddled mess.
It was just a good and humbling reminder that life isn’t a one man show, and it's wise to never deny the power of folks working toward common goals. (Even if it means you don't get to be the hero.)
3 comments:
You should be the person with the megaphone shouting, "Stroke! Stroke!"
Very thought-provoking! I like metaphorical-type posts like this, although I rarely seem to find the inspiration or cohesiveness to actually write one. :-P
It's not that you need to go slower, it's that they need to go faster! :-p
Post a Comment