River Rafting Lessons = Life Lessons
The importance of keeping your eyes on the water and not worry about what happened upstream.
Sloooowly, ice season is finally transitioning into mud season. I was on jacket-less walks last week, but dreams of camping and boating have been crushed by forecasts of another cold front moving through the Missoula Valley this weekend. (Yes, that’s not keeping everybody off the river, but I am all about comfort and joy, with no need to prove anything anymore).
I can’t deny that the river is calling me. It probably was doing so quite loudly during a recent coaching session when we found ourselves exploring the metaphor of river rafting. I’ve been pondering it ever since, and I want to start sharing it with you by way of a memory from nine years ago:
“Are you okay?” we ask the woman who just threw up over some bushes above Lava Falls, the final and most notorious big rapid in the Grand Canyon. She looks up, her slim body shaking underneath her life vest. Like all of us, she hasn’t showered or washed her long black hair in over two weeks. Dust has settled in the wrinkles on her face, making her look extra haggard. I imagine I look the same, but we haven’t had a mirror in over two weeks, either.
“I don’t know,” she answers with an honesty that’s unusual towards strangers in most other places. “My husband,” she explains, “he flipped our boat in Crystal Rapid, and I don’t know if he can do this.” Her shaking intensifies. Lava Falls rumbles below. It starts raining. I step back and let the more experienced rowers in our group talk to her. One of them flipped her boat in Crystal, too. Her partner got thrown into the Colorado River. Even though I pulled him back into the boat quite swiftly, he is not interested in repeating the experience. He decides to hike Lava Falls after we’re done scouting, and he’ll take amazing photos of all our boats making it down safely. Including the one I am in, which is going down backward after being hit by the first wave. Including Shaking Woman’s husband’s boat.
You see, sometimes knowing about everything that’s ahead isn’t helpful. Shaking Woman didn’t need to be up on the rocks, scouting the rapid. Especially while she hadn’t fully processed the trauma of a flipped boat just a few days ago.
Once we step out of the present moment, it’s easy to get pulled into the vortex of past, future, further into the past, further into the future, past, future, past, future…. And none of it is helpful as you are moving your boat and everything/everyone in it downriver.
Let me take that back. Of course, the past is essential. Because we learned some things upriver:
- how to pack the boat (and even how much gear we REALLY need)
- telling a ripple from a rapid
- identifying and avoiding obstacles
- crossing from river left to river right
- pulling people back in (there’s actually no good river analogy for learning how to throw people out of the boat, but it IS a valuable life skill to acquire)
- un-flipping the boat
- landing the boat
- tying knots to make sure our shit’s still there when we wake up the next day
It’s also vital to heal whatever injuries you incurred, whether bumps, bruises, cuts, humblings of the ego, or bigger shit, like almost drowning.
But you know what’s not vital? Fondling the stories of past failures and wrongs. They either keep you sitting on the shore, unwilling to push the raft back in and move forward. Or they distract you from what’s right in front of you, which you know damn well how to handle because you’re still here and learned how to read water.
What’s “reading water”?
- Seeing where the current flows in your favor and where it wants to pull you in a less-than-great direction.
- Understanding which channels are fun and which ones you want to avoid.
- Recognizing the rocks, which are obstacles to avoid, and which ones are features you can use for help.
- Identifying the eddies, you can pull into for some rest.
Reading water skills, a.k.a experience, strength, and hope, are all you need for the future. Sure, if you’re lucky enough to row down a river you’ve never experienced, you might want to read some guidebooks. Listen to the experience of people who’ve rowed it before, but you know what? Even they cannot know what’s behind the next bend today. A beaver may have thrown a tree into the river, or a creek may have blown up and created a new beach. Or washed one away.
Yes, you want to be prudent, but you can never ever prepare for every possibility, anyway. Trying will not save you from harm but keep you stuck on shore. And that’s not where life is the most fun. Unless, maybe, you’re a sailor? But that’s not my metaphorical realm.
So, in life, as on the river, keep your mind in the moment. Don’t worry about the stuff that happened upriver, and don’t try to look too far ahead. Have a plan if that’s what your nervous system needs, but be ready to change it. Life is water.
🪞 A few things for you to reflect on 🪞
This week’s reflections are inspired by quotes from two Grand Canyon river guides:
“Women are better on the oars than men. They don’t rely on their strength; they read the water well and let the river do the work.” — male river guide.
“Sometimes, you have to go slow to go fast.”
– female river guide.
- What’s coming up for you when you read these river-people quotes?
- How might you let their wisdom flow into your daily life?
This piece has been adapted from the latest edition of my newsletter. To not miss anything, you can subscribe here. I send letters every other Sunday and people keep telling me that they learn a ton and that reading them makes their week better.
