Riding the Waves of Life:

Paddling as We Age



I should start this post by reminding you that safety should be your top priority when paddling in challenging weather. Always check the weather forecast, inform someone about your plans, wear appropriate gear, and ensure you have the necessary skills for the conditions.

Having said that, paddling in tough conditions can offer a unique sense of peace and solitude that is rare to find. If you resonate with this sentiment, you’ll understand why I chose to paddle in what many would consider extreme weather, come hell or high water. However, if this seems like unnecessary thrill-seeking to you, I encourage you to continue reading. Perhaps I can help you understand my perspective.

So, despite the bad weather, or maybe because of it, I had launched into the white capping rollers, and attempted to paddle at a sustainable pace, tacking upriver against the flow and the buffeting 60 km/hr winds. At times I came to a standstill, but because I was committed, kept my balance, and maintained a steady effort, I was able to breakthrough and start progressing against the wall of wind, waves and relentless current.

This situation might sound horrible if being in a white capping treadmill isn’t your thing, but I found the challenge super awesome and deeply fulfilling. Some of the Provincial Team kids were trying to make their way upriver at the same time. I assume they weren’t having as much fun, since every few minutes I’d hear a blood curdling scream followed by a floundering splash.  

When I finally emerged from the blender chop, I felt reborn. It was one of those unforgettable and transformative adventures where it feels like nothing else matters. Transformation marks a shift in one’s self-concept and is where people experience personal growth. It is the combination and the intensity of our curiosity, creativity and a sense of play which leaves us feeling like we are altered in some fundamental way.

But wait, I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me explain how this transformation happened.

The muddy waters of the Red River, where I paddle, symbolize life, renewal, and reconciliation, but periodic flooding has also been a source of destruction and chaos. It begins at the Bois de Sioux and Otter Tail rivers and flows North from the US border through Manitoba. The Red is of cultural and historical importance for North Dakota, and Minnesota in the US, and Manitoba in Canada. 175 km of the Red River meanders through Manitoba and flows into Lake Winnipeg, then the Nelson River and finally Hudson Bay.




Each day before training, I stand looking out over the Red River trying to appreciate the moment. Although there are no wonderous sights, no towering mountains, or vast forests on the Red, I still find a simple joy and connection with the wind, water, and waves. Viewing nature, at your local park, in your backyard or wherever you find it, is inherently rewarding.

Perhaps the most important way we can connect with nature is by being mindful. Being present helps us experience life more fully, but it requires that you completely engage all your senses and ‘feel’ the moment. Deepening your connection to the earth by walking barefoot in the grass, listening to the symphony of nature, or looking up and moving slowly with intention through the landscape can be grounding.

Today, as I took a personal moment on the riverbank, I contemplated my feelings of excitement and doubt. It is Tuesday and the Red River of the North greeted me with an impressive northeast wind, which moments before I arrived had ripped a dragon boat off the doc. This is an 800 lbs boat, and the wind just whipped it around like a rag doll. Seeing the rolling whitecaps and the doc being pounded by the waves gave me a moment for pause, but probably not for the reasons you think. 

If you try an imagine my surprise as I assessed the situation, you will almost certainly assume I was disappointed or downhearted by this slice of crazy weather. I mean ‘who paddles in these conditions anyway?’ Common sense dictates that a smart person would have stayed home in the first place. Maybe you would have chosen a safer option after watching the froth being whipped up against the doc, and maybe you would have also complained about the ‘stupid weather’. Or perhaps if you have an adventurous spirit, you would have set out in a tugboat, and no one would have blamed you for defaulting to a more manageable watercraft in these conditions. 

When a northwest wind lashes the water by the boathouse, the waves surge and churn, and the caps froth with white foam. Waves are a testament to the relentless power of nature, and the mesmerizing dance of wind and water. The mysterious and breath-taking beauty of whitecaps lies not just in their power, but in their rhythmic grace.

There I was, standing on the riverbank, leaning into the wind, spellbound by the white caps and 80 km/hr downdrafts. It might be contrary to common sense, but I was actually scanning the river to see if the surf was up. The thing about common sense is we all disagree on what that is. You might appreciate my perspective if you know that I’ve been waiting all winter for the big four-foot rollers which only appear in the spring when the wind is crazy strong, and the current is even stronger. You might also be more empathetic when I tell you we have had weeks of this glass smooth windless monotony, and it has become a bit of a drag. So, when I arrived to see the aftermath of the dragon boat carnage, I was a little bit giddy, because I was secretly hoping for some more challenging water.

If I am completely honest, when I imagined paddling in this weather, I had some misgivings. I wasn’t sure I could manage a 14-foot standup paddle board in a squall. But what the hell, sometimes you just have to challenge the wind, and see what life has to offer. 

Challenging the wind at its best means using it to your advantage. At times attacking a problem head-on expends all our energy but hardly improves the situation. I’ve found, like most things in life, that approaching the situation from an angle allows you to move forward with the greatest speed and least resistance. The trick is to find the right tack while maintaining your balance. This sounds easier than it is, largely because the situation is fluid (insert groan) with the wind and waves constantly changing. 


As a metaphor for life, these hard-fought days, where we hardly make any ground, are salient reminders of important lessons about aging. Our attitudes about the elderly and aging center around loss, decline and their burden on society. The combination of stereotypes, prejudice and discrimination towards others based on age affects everyone. As children we internalize cultural age stereotypes and are largely unaware of how these labels lead to self-directed ageism. Ageism, in any form, has a profound impact on our quality of life and overall well-being. In fact, it may be a more serious threat then aging itself.

Unconscious bias influences how we see ourselves, others, and their value. When we start to believe that we are “too old” we are. It limits our sense of self-worth, erodes solidarity between generations, and has far-reaching economic and social impacts. It is a self-limiting attitude which keeps us living in fear and restricts our opportunities, and experiences. Simply put, ageism reduces our potential.

Once we have identified these negative thoughts, what do we do about it? I believe that one way of reducing intergenerational prejudice begins with self-reflection. This might require some radical honesty, which at its core, is a form of body-based mindfulness.

One of the goals of radical honesty is to foster a better understanding of your own behaviors, feelings and beliefs.  This approach is about being truly authentic with yourself and others, but without being hurtful or unkind. It requires a balance between candor and tact, and a pledge to be mindful of people’s feelings. By adopting the right mindset, we can unearth uncomfortable truths about our own behaviour and intentions we have long since buried, but never truly forgotten.

Examining these internalized cultural beliefs is essential to understanding who we are, and our potential to become who we wish to be. Although we may ascribe a certain degree of autonomy to how we see ourselves as we age, it is in fact the values, and attitudes of our cultural circumstance which largely determines our life journey, how we feel about it, and our independence. Our cultural values form a foundation for personal choice, structure our thinking, behavior's and ultimately sculpt personal growth through the years.

It goes without saying that we all age. As a child we just float along, unaware of the cultural currents, and we are content to live each moment without a thought as to where the river will take us next. Teenage life is full of impatience and a keen desire to paddle upriver, heedless of whitecaps and other unseen perils.  It’s often not until young adults undergo profound personal loss or trauma that they come to understand that resisting life’s natural rhythms is not sustainable. 

Now that there are more days behind me then ahead, I am increasingly aware of the river which suddenly feels like it’s picking up speed and rushing to some unseen final conclusion. I feel both anxious, and vulnerable, with a pressing desire to make every moment count. Our bodies are sensitive to feelings of vulnerability. We may lose sleep, have tense muscles, fluttering hearts and a pit drop in our stomachs. Is this common fear the result of the many negative cultural stereotypes about aging that restricts our views and limits our gratitude and well-being?

Perhaps the remedy is a new perspective. With the right mindset we can shift our fear of aging into inspiration. I focus on perspective, because considering other viewpoints invites personal transformation. We evolve, mature, and enhance ourselves by considering new beliefs and experiences. A great place to start is with learning how to be radically honest about our thoughts, feelings, and actions. This can help us positively shift our attitude towards aging and counteract societal stereotypes.

Radical honesty, akin to mindfulness, can keep us grounded and broaden our understanding of cultural values and self-worth as we age. I believe this can be a process or a way of living our lives which, ultimately, shifts our self-concept for the better. I also believe this can be a lifestyle or a process that ultimately improves our self-perception. In simple terms, we have the power to choose what we value, change the narrative around age and aging, and embrace the river of life. The alternative is to endure the detrimental effects of ageism, feeling undervalued and burdensome to our loved ones and society.

Change just is. When we are face with a difficult situation, or we make a mistake, or someone wrongs us, we might seek to avoid conflict, or attack the situation head on, both of which waste time and energy. Embracing change, a natural and unavoidable part of life, is another way to transform our perspective on aging.

Acceptance, especially when there is trauma and loss, may feel impossible. The key is to foster a change in perspective. When we can view aging as a time for growth and opportunity rather than a time of loss and decline, we will find gratitude, appreciate life, and undergo transformation.

Transformation, like aging, is a journey that is unique and highly personal, but it is not a passive experience. Just like my white capping treadmill required effort and action, our perspective on aging can evolve from feelings of vulnerability to a sense of gratitude and possibility when we are fully engaged with our mind, body, and spirit. This shift is often achieved by focusing on maintaining our balance and moving slowly across the river of life. For some this is about goal setting. For others, it might look like daily affirmations, meditations, contemplation, or reflection. Regardless of the approach transformation takes commitment, and effort.

Commitment is important for every relationship, but none more so than the relationship we have with ourselves. It is the foundation of self-love and our conscious decision to grow and succeed. Although everyone is different, I have discovered that mindfulness is an essential element to commitment regardless of your attitude about aging.

I take a personal moment on the riverbank to pause, reflect and appreciate the present. This is one way to be more mindful, and paddling is another. On the water, I give myself space to slow down, to experience the moment fully, and open my life to a more mindful way of being. I see paddling as a form of moving meditation – a shift in consciousness – to create a calm mind and expand my awareness. Just like seated meditation allows us to refocus, moving meditation also shifts our attention to our senses. Even paddling rough water can serve as the foundation for moving meditation.  The sensation of your feet on the board, the feeling of your paddle entering the water, the wind in your face… I’m sure you get the idea. Moving meditation grounds us in what we hear, what we see and what our body feels. This doesn’t mean you don’t think, it’s just that you are not constrained by any stray thought. As quickly as thoughts enter your mind you let go and refocus on the rhythm of paddling.

Commitment is reflected in our effort and action, and effort is the willingness to work rather than wait. This might look like your desire to gain knowledge, develop a skill, or enhance your performance. People often confuse commitment with desire and motivation, which can help us get started, but I believe that it has more to do with our persistence in the face of difficulties. When we are committed, we invest in the work of overcoming the challenges of life with a positive attitude.

I also believe that with the right mindset we can paddle across the whitecaps of life, embracing the winds and waves of continual change. When we welcome aging as a time for growth and an opportunity rather than a time of loss and decline, we are filled with gratitude, are free to appreciate life and challenge the negative stereotypes with the realities of our lived experience.

Embracing change, may require some radical honesty, and a shift away from traditional cultural perspectives on aging. Being authentic, present, and connected to our environment can foster curiosity, creativity and a sense of play which leaves us feeling altered in some fundamental way.

It’s Tuesday and now you understand why I had decided to paddle a white capping treadmill. Paddling gives you freedom to explore who you are and discover who you may become. The challenge of paddling in white capping rollers is about interacting with nature in a fun and engaging way. Navigating through the currents, wind, and waves demands not only skill and technique but also commitment and a playful spirit of adventure, regardless of age.


That’s me on my 21st paddle, trying to find inspiration in aging and living my best life. 

 


 

 


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