There’s Just Something About Kayaking

One of the best perks about my new job is that I get to experience free kayak trips on the Little Maumelle River. Funny enough, before I used this privilege that Rock Town River Outfitters provided to me, I enjoyed my first kayaking trip on Lake Ouachita, only to subsequently make use of my RTRO privileges later in the week.

It wasn’t until riding in a kayak that I was fully able to appreciate some of the beauty that my job provides to other people. While not everyone might get the same kind of satisfaction out of kayaking as I do, everyone enjoys it in their own way. I can only characterize my satisfaction as one that centers around the inspiration produced from the scenery around me. I’m especially fascinated by the symbolism of the water, current, waves, and the kayak’s interaction with each of these elements.

Being on the water makes it really difficult to not be overwhelmed by nature. One of the key reasons being that you’re often at a lower altitude than you have previously been, meaning that it’s much easier for your surroundings to feel larger, engulfing you in their majesty and power. While on a body of water, I’m also reminded of my marginally small presence as a “little fish in a big pond”, and am invited to ponder the actual amount of control I have over my own fate on the water. To be on the surface of something that is unstable and moving is to put your faith in something that is risky. Hence why so many people are afraid of venturing out onto the water. Not only does the water provide an unstable, un-grounding surface, but it is also something that so many people aren’t familiar with, and something that they think they know little about. Hence, the fear of the unknown comes into play.

Basically, in simpler terms, being on the water can consistently remind me that I’m not in complete control over my circumstances in life, and that in some ways my “being” feels insignificant comparative to nature’s overwhelming presence. No goddamn wonder I haven’t sought to be on the water more often.

However, at many times, water is quite serene (like it often is on the Little Maumelle). In my experiences kayaking, I’ve rarely encountered the scary and extreme portrait of water that I’ve been painting. Instead, the water has been so serene and calm that it almost feels like a solid that could be walked on. Of course, as the kayak interacts with the water, small waves are formed which briefly affect it, creating other waves, but the water in parts of the Little Maumelle River, in particular, seems as though it’s naturally quite peaceful.

This leads to a parrallel that I’ve drawn between the water’s natural state and our own minds. Our minds, at their natural state, are basically motionless, serene. However, disturbances (thoughts) create waves (thought “trains”), which vary in size. If there is massive wind or a storm — or a boat with a massive wake — these waves may build up and affect the whole of the body of water, and may make a kayaker perceive danger. For a time, that may in fact be true, but the water will always return to its original peaceful state. Thoughts are impermanent, and they may be intense, unstable, and inescapable, just like waves can be. Thoughts may arise from a variety of circumstances, and you’re not always in control of the whether they originate or not. You can’t always stop yourself from thinking about something you don’t want to think about, just like I can’t always stop people with boats from creating waves in a no-wake zone. The important thing to notice is that these waves, like our thoughts, are temporary. This isn’t me trying to minimize their impact, tell you that the same thoughts won’t keep reoccurring, or tell you that you’ll reach a place of complete stability — it is just meant to remind you that in times of obsessive struggle, there is relief in sight. While waves will always appear, they will always also dissapear.

Kayakers have a noted say in how they interact with the water. They may choose to navigate the waters by entering a cove, going straight down a channel, or simply making a bunch of turns with no particular chosen direction. The point is that they have some control over how they move in the water, and what waves they create (and don’t create). In reference to the associations I’ve been making, the kayaker can represent the person (you and I) as an active decision-maker that is also influenced by their minds and thoughts. We don’t create all the waves that are present in the river that we paddle in, and we certainly aren’t able to control all of them when they’re present in the river. But, we are certainly in control of whether we paddle against that wave, actively choose to ride with that wave, or simply let the wave pass through us.

This is of great importance in situating our positionality in our interaction with our own minds. If we, as the kayaker, actively choose to cling to our thoughts and ride a “thought wave”, we risk obsession and attachment to that wave that can be unhealthy, leaving us in a place (or state of mind) that we didn’t initially plan for. While it’s not always a bad thing to obsess, — some great work comes out of obsession — too much attachment to our own thoughts makes it difficult to separate ourselves from the waves that we let carry us. Fighting against an uncontrollable thought wave that is hindering our experience does nothing to help us either, as fighting the wave doesn’t allow us to control the wave, or completely hinder the impact it has on us. As a kayaker, you can also allow the waves to flow over you, and then when they pass, you can go back to paddling, just like as humans we can allow our thoughts to pass through us and then move ahead with our days. Being on the kayak gives one the power to make the decisions that will see them interact with the waves in whatever way they so choose, and provides a critical reminder that we are not purely subject to our own thoughts, that we have a choice in how we interact with them.

While it’s quite arguable if any of connections in this series of symbolic metaphors are actually essential to one’s kayaking experience, they represent some of the essential qualities of life that are sparked in my mind when I am on a kayak. While on the kayak, it’s hard for me not to be reminded of that vast amount of control that we do not have over our experience, just like we don’t have too much control of the flow of the water around us. However, being on a kayak also helps demonstrate what we do have control over: the direction we choose to take in a world that moves haphazardly like water all around us.

We may not be able to pursue our path without disturbance; that is to be expected. What matters is that despite our lack of complete control, we are not completely weak at the behest of the water, or our mind. We control how much we allow it to affect us as we proceed on our journey. Knowing that brings me comfort. I hope it does the same for you.