Rowing is a unique sport. It is endlessly complicated, so much so as to make a golf swing seem like sitting in a Lay-Z-Boy. At the same time, it is also about the simplest of things...learning to be still.
The relationship between rowing and spirituality struck me a few weeks ago. Not because it is a meditation, or has some Zen-like quality - both of which are true -- but more because rowing is a metaphor for Life.
I've only been rowing for a few seasons. I am still a novice. About a month ago I experienced The Moment -- I had about 10 consecutive strokes when it felt as if the boat was moving and I was still. I was not pulling the boat with the oars by moving the oars. I was pushing the boat past the oars as they remained stuck in the water. And as I came back through the recovery I felt the boat move past me, rather than me moving through the boat back toward the stern. I was at the stillpoint. Needless to say, I have not repeated the experience.
Later on in the day, I came to make the connection between this experience and the deep spirituality associated with that stillness -- being in the world, but not of the world...or, in this case, being in the boat, but not of the boat.
Taoists refer to this as the Watercourse Way. Buddhists refer to it as the One Seat, or "good head and shoulders". Christians refer to it as Being with the Spirit.
In any event, and whatever you choose to call it, it is a revelation because, in the pursuit of spiritual attainment, this is exactly what we strive for -- stillness within the maelstrom. Peace, tranquility and balance as everything else simply passes by. It is the ultimate release of ego; it is 'letting go'.
Rowing is about managing multiple tasks; sometimes simultaneously opposed...sounds like your life, right? It is about responsibility. It is about balance. And, as I said, mostly, it is about learning to be still inside the movement.
When you are in a single scull, you confront Life head-on. Every Karma (action) has a consequence, and you, and you alone, must be accountable for each consequence. You are completely responsible for everything that is happening on the water. There are no excuses, there is no one to blame. You can't even blame the wind, the weather or the water because you manage those things with your oar handles, the height of your riggers, or the position of your foot stretcher. They are managed with the depth of your stroke, the power curve of your drive, and the subtlety of your recovery. For once, it is all about you - and, if you fail, you flip the boat and go for a swim. Sounds like your life, right?
When in a quad (4 person scull), or a larger boat, you must, to paraphrase Quincy Jones, "check your ego at the dock". While taking complete responsibility for ourselves, we can place no blame on our boatmates. The boat must think as One, move as One, breath as One --- we must be One, and each of us is individually responsible for creating that collective "One-ness" -- otherwise, the boat doesn't run.
There can be no Ego here. We cannot contend, but must, rather, cooperate. You can take the biggest, strongest, tallest guys in the world and put them in a boat --- if the technique is not synchronized - if there is no "One-ness" -- the boat will not run - it'll move, but it won't run. This is a lesson in flexibility, adaptability, and tolerance. It is about compassion, and holding space. This is Life.
In a single scull, we have to suspend the ego insofar as recognizing that we are ultimately responsible and accountable for everything that is going on around us. When in a quad, or even larger boat, we need to suspend the ego to create a oneness within the shell.
Again, even the metaphor of language evinces the parallel -- a Oneness within the Shell - that is pure Yoga -- a union of the small self with the larger self, yoking the Atman (the phenomenal self) with Brahman (the Divine Ground), union with the Holy Spirit, satori, samadhi, rapture, epiphany, release of attachments to define the authentic self, and so on.
Within the pantheon of enlightenment, it would appear a good row is right up there. God is good, God is great, yeah, sure - I'm also pretty sure God rows.
© 2008 Michael J. Formica, All Rights Reserved
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