Single sculling on a glassy lake- meditative, challenging, peaceful.
I got hooked into it with my dad when I was a teenager, as we spent hours on Atwood Lake learning it, alternating between 2-man sculling together and single sculling on our own. As I went off to college, he continued to row, solo on the lake every morning the northern Ohio weather would allow.
There’s no better place to contemplate choice, impact and the ripple effect than in the middle of a glassy lake. When single sculling, your orientation is to where you’ve been and how you got there, rather than where you’re going. You’re on a sliding seat with two long oars fit into outriggers, the bow of the boat pointing through the water while you power it with long, full-body, full-blade strokes of the oars feathered into and over the water in perfect synchronicity. At least that’s the goal. Therein lies the challenge. To get both oars perfectly balanced, dipped into and pulled through the water at exactly the same depth, force and speed takes focus and control with constant motion. To get each stroke evenly powered first by legs, then torso, then arms, then feathering the oars perfectly out of the water and skimmed back over it without nicking the surface takes a different kind of focus and coordination. Like sailing (my other favorite), you can both lose yourself in it and spend your life hooked by the challenge of the nuance in it. A thinking person’s sport, to be sure.
One of the coolest parts of sculling is that you see feedback and progress with every stroke. Because you’re facing to the aft of the boat, your focus is on where you’ve been, watching the wake your boat is leaving behind, the pools of ripple left by each oar. If your timing was off by half a second between oars, you see it in the ripples. If you had a perfect stroke, you see it in perfect round pools on either side of your straight wake. As you gain distance, the trail of pools down the lake chart your progress and path- straight, zig-zagging or meandering. Each circle of ripples expands instantly, first in distinct circles of light and shadow, multiplying instantly and quickly, ultimately overlapping into the very texture of the lake.
Most people have a default time orientation- past, present or future. I’m definitely a future-oriented person, sometimes challenged to stay in the moment, as I’m always thinking 5 minutes, 5 days, 5 years ahead of where I am now. This makes me a good coach and consultant, as I’m great at quickly surveying past patterns (but restless in dwelling there too long), zooming in on the impact they’re having now, and then strategizing both the right path forward and endless possible scenarios forward with insight. I love to reflect, yet sometimes need to remind myself to do so, often feeling afterward like it was an indulgence. I am big on feedback and learning, so I’ve learned how to strategically and quickly reflect enough to gather feedback when necessary- but always to learn forward. I am continually striving to (and coaching others to) be more fully present in each moment. The more I can master this, the more impact and fulfillment I make/get out of every moment. Meditation is the extreme version of this. I’m intrigued by it, have gotten tremendous value out of the dabbling I’ve done in it, and have a perpetual goal of making it a habit. Sculling forces me to keep my focus backward, forcing reflection and in the present, adjusting each stroke and coordinated movement based on what I just did. Focusing forward or to the future isn’t even possible without physically turning around. Opposite of life for me- always focused forward, having to consciously stop and intentionally turn around to reflect backward.
One of my favorite parts of sculling is just coasting… After a few long, powerful strokes the boat glides smoothly and silently through the water. I hold my oars up to rest as I glide, and watch the water drip from them into the water moving past. The drops make tiny circles, which grow instantly to ripples, which multiply faster than I can track smoothly, beautifully and overlapping into the ripples of the drop before it. Every move we make, every conversation we have, every decision in life we conquer- intentionally or not makes these ripples, which expand into the texture of our lives. How much are we tracking them, studying them, choosing our next moves based on them?