Way back in 2009, I reflected here on a metaphor for times of extreme busyness. Today, midweek before the Missoula Marathon (an event for which I have accepted a long list of responsibilities), the metaphor is freshly relevant and the chance to re-visit that earlier issue of "Reflections" opportune.
I have recently been reading Flow, a book about happiness b MihalyCsikszentmihalyi. It didn't take long for free association to lead from the image of "flow" to the metaphor of whitewater, introduced by my friend Jane several years ago. In looking ahead to an extra-busy week, she wrote that she was perched on the bank of a fast-moving stream, preparing to jump in and hoping to stay afloat. We have often returned to that image over the years.
According to the book, the joy of "flow" arises when our skills are perfectly matched to the challenges we face. Whitewater goes further to push the limits and demand that we develop new skills. In whitewater, the current is powerful and the hydraulics complex. The movement is swift; our responses must be intuitive and instantaneous. Small errors of judgment can flip us over for an even wilder ride.
People who excel at running whitewater have developed skills in planning, presence, and recovery. They plan by studying a stretch of river in advance, running it repeatedly in their imaginations until the pattern of flow and response permeates their very being. They employ presence in midst of the action. Once in motion, they don't think things through and weigh the options; they don't worry about what will happen if things don't come together. They are intensely present, focused on the demands of the millisecond. When upsets occur, and they always do, the whitewater expert can flip upright in an instant.
In order to experience "flow" in life when the pace picks up, we can emulate those who run rapids for fun and live to tell their stories. Look ahead; memorize the current; develop anticipate the unexpected; rehearse. When riding the current, set aside the fearful mind. Pay attention to what is happening now and trust in training to guide the response. When the boat flips over, draw on highly developed skills to resume an upright pose with a few deft strokes.
Look forward to the week ahead. Where are the holes, the eddies, and the rocks? Is there a waterfall? Are you prepared to launch the week and ride the current with confidence? If so, practice your Eskimo roll and go for it. If not, listen to your inner voice and consider the wisdom of carrying your boat safely around the most hazardous conditions.
