On Fear (1 of 2) - Spencer Lum / Ground Glass

Untitled - Split / Croatia (Tue 30 Jul 2013)
Spencer Lum (*) writes On Fear (*):

Fear is a dark and menacing thing. It lurks in the shadows of our minds. Always hard to find, always waiting in the wings, never quite gone, never quite there.

But I’ll take it over security, any day.

Security is worse.

Fear accompanies all great things. It’s there in progress, change, and growth. It’s there when you shed your own skin. It’s there when you let yourself to become more.

You don’t own fear by forgetting it. Security is not fear vanquished. Security is settling for less.

Let fear be your guide. You fear when you care. You fear when you want. Really want.

Fear doesn’t tell you what to run from. Fear tells you what to run to. There is no fear that accompanies the unimportant. It is the most clear and vital indicator that something actually matters. [..]

via Multiple | Ground Glass (*) by Spencer Lum (*).

As always, thanks Spencer (*). You always make it so clear, and again have helped me make a decision (*). So it's time to start building up. Let all the risk taking (*) begin yet again.

On Fear and Fearlessness - Jeremy Rolleston / A Life that Counts (Tue 13 Aug 2013)

Poster - Underground / London (Fri 16 Aug 2013)
Jeremy Rolleston (*) and Fearlessness (*):

fearlessness (*) is not the same as the absence of fear (*).

The fearless person is well aware of the fear she faces.

The fear, though, becomes a compass, not a barrier.

It becomes a way to know what to do next, not something that has to be denied or an evil demon to be extinguished.

When we deny our fear, we make it stronger (*). And trying to deny it doesn’t make us fearless (*).

But acknowledging your fear and moving on / choosing a new [brave (*)] mindset (*) is one that permits it to exist without strengthening it or letting it control (*) you.

via We’re both scared but for different reasons (*) by Jeremy Rolleston (*).

Doubt and Fear - Paul Coelho (Wed 25 Aug 2011)

Some wise words from Doubt and Fear (*) by Paulo Coelho (*) [Wed 25 Aug 2011]

despite the fear and the bruises of life, one has to keep on fighting for one’s dream.

As Borges said in his writings

“there is no other virtue than being brave”

And one has to understand that braveness is not the absence of fear but rather the strength to keep on going forward despite the fear

On Fear (2 of 2) - Spencer Lum / Ground Glass

Joanne and Geoff - Szeged / Hungary (Mon 29 Jul 2013)
Spencer Lum (*) writes On Fear (*):

When you live in the first person, you’ll experience fear and hesitation and that feeling in the pit of your stomach that you will not measure up. But for that, you will rip through the barriers that separate you from your future self. The one who exists on the other side, who has done what you wanted, knows what you wanted, and experienced what you wanted.

You will recover your dreams, you will recover yourself, you’ll take the hits, but as Sinatra said, you’ll know you did it your way.

So if you look at your own work, and you’re afraid to show it. If you look at your own self, and you’ve kept it walled off, don’t hold it back, don’t keep it safe. Don’t let it wither without seeing the light of day. Let it into the wild, and see what takes place. Your life is waiting.

Because the question is not whether fear is too high a price to pay. The question is whether fear is too much to give up.

via Multiple | Ground Glass (*) by Spencer Lum (*).

On Fear and Creativity - Seth Godin (Mon 23 Nov 2015)

Untitled - La Perouse (Mon 07 Sep 2015)

Seth Godin on Fear and Creativity:

fear is a necessary part of actually being productive in doing creative work

via Is productive the same as busy? by Seth Godin.

On Being a Beginner - Spencer Lum / forwardandopen.com (Fri 17 Jul 2015)

Puzzle of the Heart - Chippendale (Tue 14 Jul 2015)

Spencer Lum on being a Beginner and Fear:

When you’re a beginner, the fear isn’t there, because the judgement isn’t there. You can play to your heart’s content

via email by Spencer Lum.

Ever the Beginner. And maybe that is what you hide behind to justify your own Self Doubts and lack of apparent confidence in yourself.

[An aside] Another time to Let Go of Fear is when All is Lost (or Won). And it can be rewarding and exhilarating when you do.

On Fear - Seth Godin (Wed 04 Dec 2013)

A bit of a balancing act - Shadow - Alexandria (Wed 04 Dec 2013)
Seth Godin (*) writes On Embracing Fear (*):

It's okay to be nervous (*). Instead of fighting (*) that anxiety (*), dance (*) with it. Welcome it. Relish it. It's a sign (*) you're on to something. [..] This is important after all.

When we welcome a feeling like this, when we embrace (*) it and actually look forward (*) to it, the feeling (*) doesn't get louder and more debilitating (*). It softens, softens to the point where we can work with it.

Use your fear (*) like fuel (*).

via Trash talking important work (*) by Seth Godin (*).

On Fear - Vivienne Gucwa (Thu 31 Oct 2013)

Untitled - Gyor / Hungary (Wed 17 Jul 2013)
Vivienne Gucwa (*) writes On Fear (*):

Something I believe in wholeheartedly is embracing whatever it is that you fear (*) the most. It’s the only way to come to peace (*) with yourself and allow yourself to live fully without regret (*).

via Vivienne Gucwa with Sony at PhotoPlus Expo 2013 (*) by Vivienne Gucwa (*).

The Lucky Ones

This is a work in progress. It has been in my head for a long time now, but it has been hard to write. Hopefully, it will make sense. I expect to modify it a bit over the next few weeks, but at least it is a start.

A few months before Jenny died, I read Lance Armstrong's book entitled "Its not about the bike". Jenny had been given a copy by a long time friend, Mena, not long after the book was first published here in Australia (sometime around 2002/3 I am guessing). She read the book quickly and I know she got a lot from the pages. For some reason I did not read the book until early May 2009.

Geoff, Jenny, Mena, Steve and Joanne - Natation DB Titles - Kawana / Qld - Sat 25 Apr 2009 (picasa)

I bought my own copy so that I could read the book that meant so much to Jenny. I think I was motivated by the fact the Jenny was progressing to the final stages of her Cancer (at least that is reluctantly what I quietly started to think - she had just been diagnosed with multiple tumors in her liver on the 11 Mar 2009 - not a very promising situation). I thought I might find something in the pages to understand her and our situation.

I read the book, intermittently over a few weeks, at my local coffee shop before work and on the train to work. There was lots of the book that resonated with me, particularly his encounters with cancer. One part in particular struck a chord with me. It was about a half through, where he writes about what he felt during chemotherapy following neurosurgery to remove a beign brain tumor.

What is stronger, fear or hope? It's an interesting question, and perhaps even an important one. Initially, I was very fearful and without much hope, but as I sat there and absorbed the full extent of my illness, I refused to let the fear completely blot out my optimism. Something told me that fear should never fully rule the heart, and I decided not to be afraid.

I wanted to live, but whether I would or not was a mystery, and in the midst of confronting that fact, even at that moment, I was beginning to sense that to stare into the heart of such a fearful mystery wasn't a bad thing. To be afraid is a priceless education. Once you have been that scared, you know more about your frailty than most people, and I think that changes a man. I was brought low, and there was nothing to take refuge in but the philosophical: this disease would force me to ask more of myself as person than I ever had before, and to seek out a different ethic.

A couple of days earlier, I had received an e-mail from a military guy stationed in Asia. He was a fellow cancer patient, and he wanted to tell me something.

"You don't know it yet," he wrote, "but we're the lucky ones."

I'd said aloud, "This guy's a nut."

What on earth could he mean?

When I read this, I stored it away in my mind, eagerly awaiting Lance's own answer to this question - lucky .. What on earth could he mean?. It would come quietly on the last page of the book.

"You don't know it yet, but we're the lucky ones," my fellow cancer patient had written.

I will always carry the lesson of cancer with me, and feel that I'm a member of the cancer community. I believe I have an obligation to make something better out of my life than before, and to help my fellow human beings who are dealing with the disease. It's a community of shared experience. Anyone who has heard the words You have cancer and thought, "Oh, my God, I'm going to die," is a member of it. If you've ever belonged, you never leave.

Jenny had often indicated that she felt lucky (I think in both aspects - that of surviving an aggressive cancer and oddly enough, having had had cancer). She said this in the Australian Story Episode, "In the Pink":

'I don't understand how things work out, and why things work out the way they do. I feel like I've been lucky. I don't understand how cancer works, I don't know why I've been blessed the way I have been.'

Jenny - Australian Story - "In the Pink - Kirrawee - May 2004 (picasa)

and in her Talks:

'I feel I am so lucky and have a wonderful life. I have had some great opportunities through breast cancer to meet some very inspiring people. Geoff and Jo have been a constant source of support for me. Breast cancer has totally changed my life but for the best.'

Relay for Life 2007 - Jenny - Survivor Representative - Sylvania Waters - Sat 28 Apr 2007 (picasa)

The Rainbow Connection - Phil, John, Marj, Jenny, Liz, Noel - Phil passed away shortly after this photo was taken - he often spoke to Jenny about how luck seemed to play a big part in how things worked out, but sometimes you make you own luck - Rely for Life 2003 - Sylvania Waters - Sat 31 May 2003 - (picasa)

As Jenny's International Dragon Boating Career started, she came to the attention of the Media and in the first Newspaper Article she featured in, she was even compared to Lance Armstrong:

Don Iverson, Director of the Health and Productivity Research Center at the University of Wollongong, said that Ms Petterson could be compared to Lance Armstrong, who won the Tour de France after fighting testicular cancer.

'It's almost superhuman,' he said.

Cancer wont slow rowing champion - Sydney Sun Herald - 2 May 2004

She was a little embarrassed by the comparison, but Jo and I were very proud of Jenny and her achievements in her treatment, her sport and her life as breast cancer survivor.

Geoff, Jenny, Grace, Lynn, Betty, Thomas, Grant, Joanne and David - Relay for Life 2007 - Jenny - Survivor Representative - Sylvania Waters - Sat 28 Apr 2007 (picasa)


After Jenny's passing, I had an encounter in the Intensive Care Unit where Jenny left us. Joanne and I had gone back to thank the staff at the St George Hospital and to pickup some scans that had been lost in Jenny's move from the Level 1 to ICU. We spoke to the head ICU nurses (they were between shifts) and we knew both of them from Jenny's time in ICU (and I was well known to them as I had fainted in ICU on Jenny's second day in ICU after the neurosurgery). We talked a little and I mentioned that Jenny did consider herself lucky to have had cancer - as she said herself - it had changed her life for the better. One the nurses questioned this statement and she made me feel a little uneasy for saying what I had said. She could not believe anyone with cancer could consider themselves lucky. Maybe, she had seen too much of the cold harsh reality of cancer in that ICU. Maybe she was right. It did not seem too lucky now that Jenny was gone?

This conversation stuck in my mind for a long time, and I started to question many things. It was not until I came across the following blog post by Doug Miller that I found some peace. Here was a man who had recently been diagnosed with Cancer. He was articulate and in many ways his post offers so much more than Lance's writings on Cancer and Luck. This is probably the most moving piece of writing I have read in my life. I don't have cancer, but I have lived a shared life with it and it's consequences. I can truly emphasise. Here it is. My heart is with you Doug ..

Doug Miller - Colorado Trail San Juan Mountains - 1994 - A Single Path - (blog)

The Lucky Ones by Doug Miller (Wed 23 Sep 2009)

[..] a friend [..] pointed me to Lance Armstrong's book entitled "Its not about the bike" I picked up a copy and quickly read through it. I liked it.

It had a bit much detail focusing on cycling, but that was an aspect of the man that could obviously not be separated from the larger reality of his battle with cancer.

There were portions though that left my mind spinning. Armstrong's description of his diagnosis and the roller coaster of emotions that ensued was painfully raw and hit the mark with a clarity and similarity I could not deny. I myself am walking those darkened and fearful paths as I write these very words.

Out of all the pages a couple simple statements that he made resonated with me in a powerful way.

Armstrong tells of a letter that he received. It was from a man he had never met before. He himself had battled cancer. He wrote Armstrong to acknowledge his support and positive thoughts. As he finished the letter he made a strange statement that confused Armstrong. He wrote, "you probably do not understand this right now, but we are the lucky ones".

What? How is anyone with cancer lucky? It is devastating. It not only has the potential to steal your life, but also has the destructive potential to steal your Hope. Those words are haunting. Lucky? We are the lucky ones. This brotherhood of suffering is somehow lucky..........blessed?

It is diametrically opposed to any sort of sane thinking that those outside of this brotherhood would agree with. It actually is an almost dangerous statement. As if you say it as you are waking off a cliff without a safety net. A statement such as that redefines everything. Life. Death. And even Hope.

But as I walk this path, and simultaneously encounter life in all its beauty and harshness, I find myself agreeing. "We are the lucky ones". I am lucky. I say those words with a part of me screaming, "how dare you, how can you say that". But it is true. The perspective that cancer gives to life is unbelievable. It has the power to refine you. Your thoughts. Your direction. Your focus.

It is as if you look at life for the first time. Everything is different. Nothing is the same. Everything is turned on edge, revealing a freshness and an urgency that is not seen outside of cancer. If this clarity does exist in our normal lives, it is missed. Overshadowed by the busyness of life. By worthless and empty pursuits.

Another quote from Armstrong's book was this: "Cancer is not about dying, it is about living" What a statement.

Most would argue against it. But those that walk this path find it to be true. Life after diagnosis becomes "alive". It becomes real. It is as if you can grasp it with your own hands, breath it in, consume it.

Oh if I could have had this view earlier in life. I knew that it existed. I sensed it. I chased it. Through the mountains. Through relationships. In the woods and fields of my youth. It was a whisper in the words of poets. And a reflection on the horizon as the sun slipped out of view. But i did not catch it until cancer became my reference. My reality.

We who are members of this brotherhood and sisterhood of suffering are the lucky ones, because now we can truly live. And Love. And Hope. And I dare to say Dream. They are painful dreams, haunted with the shadows of uncertainty, but they are vivid dreams. Passionate dreams. Dreams that leave your heart aching, your soul longing. We are released from the fear of death. Our finite lives are bared.

We come face to face with our mortality and realize that life is looking back at us. Raw and uncertain. But ALIVE none the less. There were days before cancer that I despaired. At times despising my life. But now I am hungry to live. I long to live. Whether that time be long or short, I hold tight to life and all of its glorious agony.

Posted by Doug Miller at 9:11 PM

On Living - The Story of Telling (Wed 13 Aug 2014)

I have battles in my life ("but I'm better for it") - Alexandria (Feb 2014)
The Story of Telling (*) writes On Life (*):

The irony of the human condition is that we fear (*) being invisible (*) and yet we fear being seen. We want to feel (*) like what we do matters (*), that our time here stood for something. And yet we know that when we stick our necks out we are opening (*) ourselves up to criticism (*) and failure (*). [..]

What Will Your Verse Be?

via What Will Your Verse Be? (*) by The Story of Telling (*).

Mine is already done (*), but I hope (*) I will be lucky enough to add to it.

The night before brain surgery ..

Another extract from Lance Armstrong's book entitled "Its not about the bike". Some parts of the book really connected with me. Here is the one that resonates the most ..

How do you confront your own death? Sometimes I think the blood-brain barrier is more than just physical, it's emotional, too. Maybe there's a protective mechanism in our psyche that prevents us from accepting our mortality unless we absolutely have to.

Jenny - 'A little tidy up of Jenny's hair - it was always my job to do this.' - Kirrawee - 16 Jun 2009 (picasa)
The night before brain surgery, I thought about death. I searched out my larger values, and I asked myself, if I was going to die, did I want to do it fighting and clawing or in peaceful surrender? What sort of character did I hope to show? Was I content with myself and what I had done with my life so far? I decided that I was essentially a good person, although I could have been better—but at the same time I understood that the cancer didn't care.

Jenny and Geoff - 'off we head to the Hospital' - Tue 16 Jun 2009 (picasa)
I asked myself what I believed. I had never prayed a lot. I hoped hard, I wished hard, but I didn't pray. [..]

I believed, too, in the doctors and the medicine and the surgeries — I believed in that. [..]

Jenny Collage - The Night Before Brain Surgery - The White Markers were placed on Jenny's head before an MRI - they would be used by the Nuerosurgeon to assist in precisely locating the Tumor from a digital scan of the MRI. - St George Hospital - Tue 16 Jun 2009 (picasa)

Beyond that, I had no idea where to draw the line between spiritual belief and science. But I knew this much: I believed in belief, for its own shining sake. To believe in the face of utter hopelessness, every article of evidence to the contrary, to ignore apparent catastrophe— what other choice was there? We do it every day, I realized. We are so much stronger than we imagine, and belief is one of the most valiant and long-lived human characteristics. To believe, when all along we humans know that nothing can cure the briefness of this life, that there is no remedy for our basic mortality, that is a form of bravery.

Jenny with the Flowers from Julia and Todd (photo to come), and Pacific Dragons - St George Hospital - Tue 16 Jun 2009 (picasa)

To continue believing in yourself, believing in the doctors, believing in the treatment, believing in whatever I chose to believe in, that was the most important thing, I decided. It had to be.

Without belief, we would be left with nothing but an overwhelming doom, every single day. And it will beat you. I didn't fully see, until the cancer, how we fight every day against the creeping negatives of the world, how we struggle daily against the slow lapping of cynicism. Dispiritedness and disappointment, these were the real perils of life, not some sudden illness or cataclysmic millennium doomsday. I knew now why people fear cancer: because it is a slow and inevitable death, it is the very definition of cynicism and loss of spirit. So, I believed.

Jenny, Joanne, David and Geoff - "Jenny takes a photo of us all just before she heads out to have a 4cm brain tumor removed. She had no fear and looked forward to quickly recovering to resume the treatment of the tumors in her liver." - St George - 6:30am Wed 17 Jun 2009 (picasa)

Will try add some more photos (partly done now - Geoff 10 Mar 2009) and maybe some of my own recollections and thoughts on Jenny's Night before brain surgery. There is a bit of story here if I can find the strength to write about it.

Jenny - 'Just before heading out for surgery.' - St George Hospital - 7am Wed 17 Jun 2009 (picasa)

On Lost Inspiration and Purpose - The Manual of the Warrior of Light

Jenny and Geoff - 2nd Wedding Anniversay - Quay West/Sydney (Tue 30 Apr 2002)
Following on from yesterday's post (*), Paulo Coelho (*) writes on lost Inspiration (*) and Purpose (*):

One day, for no apparent reason, the warrior realises that he does not feel the same enthusiasm for the fight that he used to.

He continues to do what he has always done, but every gesture seems meaningless. At such a time, he has only one choice: to continue fighting the Good Fight. He says his prayers out of duty or fear or whatever, but he does not abandon the path.

He knows that the angel of the One who inspires him has simply wandered off somewhere. The warrior keeps his attention focused on the battle and he perseveres, even when everything seems utterly pointless. The angel will soon return and the merest flutter of her wings will restore the warrior's joy to him.

via The Manual of the Warrior of Light (*) by Paulo Coelho (*).

I posted this passage back in Aug 2010 (*), while struggling with Jenny's loss. I think of it often and I guess that is why yesterday's post (*) seemed so important. I just thought I would repost it (*) again as my Angel did flutter her wings and my joys of paddling and life did return. Maybe it started here (*)?

The Warrior of Photography and Light - SheetShooter (Wed 29 Apr 2015)

Photographer - Alexandria (Sun 26 Apr 2015)

StreetShooter on Photography:

we must be warriors in life. As photographers we must do our work without fear of acceptance or rejection by others or by ourselves. We do our work because we must. We don’t define our work, it defines us. It makes us who we are and shows us the way to become who and what we strive to be. [..]

you come in alone and you go out alone. It’s your camera and your life. Make photos for you and if others like them along the way and maybe buy them or collect them, wonderful, but if that’s why you made them. That’s a waste of love and life

via Philly Streets … More thoughts and Findings … Olympus Pen EP-5 by StreetShooter.

Decisions - Paulo Coelho

tree - Alexandria (Mon 27 Jun 2016)

Paul Coelho on Decisions:

The warrior of the light is terrified when faced with important decisions.

"That is too great for you," says one friend. "Go on, be brave," says another. And his doubts only increase.

After some days of anxiety, he withdraws into a corner of his tent, where he usually sits to mediate and pray. He sees himself in the future. He sees the people who will benefit and lose out because of his actions. He does not wish to cause unnecessary suffering, but nor will he abandon the path.

So the warrior allows the decision to appear. If he must say yes, then he shall bravely say it. If he must say no, then he shall say so without fear.

[Another first day of the rest of my life]

via The moment to decide by Paul Coelho.

I Learned - Leo Babauta / The Minimalists (Sun 30 Nov 2014)

Untitled - Rue de l'Aqueduc / Paris (Thu 19 Sep 2014)
Leo Babauta (*) writes on Learning (*):

I learned to trust that we’d be OK, even starting life afresh [..]. I learned that we can adapt and survive, and cope with the fear of not being OK.

via A Simpler Family Life: Starting Life Anew with Our Six Kids (*) by The Minimalists (*).

On Photography - I love to make portraits - Kirk Tuck (Fri 07 Dec 2012)

Grandpa (Eric) [1] - John Sharman (*) Gallery / Mogo (Sun 07 Dec 2003)
Kirk Tuck (*) writes about the beauty the wonderful relationship he has with photography in (*):

I love to make portraits.

I love that not all of my subjects are required to smile.

I love that we can spend time talking about life while we're making portraits.

I love to work in black and white but I don't fear color.

I love light that can be both dramatic and flattering.

I love the contrast of dark shirts against light skin.

I love longish lenses and continuous lights.

I love going back and looking at old contact sheets to look at the "paths" not taken and then re-scanning and reprinting to see if my tastes have grown or changed since we last peeked into the contact sheets and made our choices.

Another amazing piece of writing about photography by a professional photographer. Got to love that. Thanks Kirk.

[1] Random Recollection - This is a photo of my Grandfather (my Father's Father). My brother, along with my Aunt took him on a drive and at my Aunt's suggestion we ended up at John Sharman's Art Gallery. My Aunt knows him well and she has a few of his paintings. John had also made some paintings from the cliff on the edge of my Grandfathers property at Malua Bay. One of the paintings is the unframed painting behind my Grandfather. This is a nice reminder of my childhood days spend at Malua Bay with my Grandparents.

I have a few more portraits from that day which I will publish here at some stage.

Viva La Vida - ColdPlay - Letterman Live (Tue 20 Sep 2011)

Viva La Vida - Coldplay - Live on Letterman [Youtube (*)]
Heard this song on the car radio the day after Lance Armstrong's confession to the world via Oprah.

When I heard the lyrics I could not help but think of Lance. So many analogies.

Like Lance, the song is part of me and my life experiences. It is too hard to write about here now and I will save it for another day.

Here are the lyrics. Enjoy ...

Viva La Vida Lyrics

I used to rule the world
Seas would rise when I gave the word
Now in the morning I sleep alone
Sweep the streets I used to own

I used to roll the dice
Feel the fear in my enemy's eyes
Listen as the crowd would sing
"Now the old king is dead! Long live the king!"

One minute I held the key
Next the walls were closed on me
And I discovered that my castles stand
Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand

I hear Jerusalem bells a ringing
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror, my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field

For some reason I can't explain
Once you go there was never
Never an honest word
And that was when I ruled the world

It was the wicked and wild wind
Blew down the doors to let me in
Shattered windows and the sound of drums
People couldn't believe what I'd become

Revolutionaries wait
For my head on a silver plate
Just a puppet on a lonely string
Oh who would ever want to be king?

I hear Jerusalem bells a ringing
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror, my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field

For some reason I can't explain
I know Saint Peter won't call my name
Never an honest word
But that was when I ruled the world

I hear Jerusalem bells a ringing
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror, my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field

For some reason I can't explain
I know Saint Peter won't call my name
Never an honest word
But that was when I ruled the world

via (*) by (*).

On Persistence and Vincent van Gogh - Timothy Standring / NY Times (Sun 28 Oct 2012)

Vincent van Gogh - The Met / New York City (Mon 15 Aug 2011)
Timothy Standring on Vincent van Gogh and Persistence:

We all think he’s a genius, but he placed a lot of value on craftsmanship. When he started, he had no talent for drawing. If you look at his early drawings, they’re horrible. So how did he develop?”

The answer, Mr. Van Tilborgh said, was persistence. “If he couldn’t do it, he tried it 50 more times. He was one of those rare artists who had the energy to work through the fear of failure.

Via The Genius in us All (*) from New York Times (*).

Lanterns - Birds of Tokyo (youtube)

Lanterns (*) by Birds of Tokyo (*) [Youtube (*)]
Some Lyrics from Lanterns (*):

[..] Without question, without doubt
In the light (*) that we have found
It is finally clear
Our day has come
And we'll stand for who we are
We are ready, we are young
We have nothing to fear [..]

via Lanterns (*) by Birds of Tokyo (*).

One Stroke by Drew Ginn (29 Apr 2008)

Gondala/One Stroke - Venice - Sep 2009 (picasa)
One Stroke by Drew Ginn (29 Apr 2008):

[..] So what is it to be engaged fully in that one stroke?

After the fact it is difficult to isolate the experience of one stroke from the others. It is challenging to gain clarity on exactly one stroke because it happens in a flow of many more. [..] the dilemma is not just identifying the one, but ensuring it is pure and uncontaminated by the past one’s and future one’s.

The joy of performing the one stroke and immersing in it is challenged by the accumulated nature of the cyclic or repeated experiences. [..]

[W]hat is it to be fully engaged in one stroke[?] Knife-edge comes to mind. [..] the sense of being on a knife-edge is a great description. Less so from the perspective of balance or even match up, it has an essence that finds a cord within that is about effort, ease, maintenance and fatigue.

In fact to see it clearer I notice that the one, perfect one that I see is one of edgy contrast.

It is in a position of precarious, pointedness with a subtle oscillation between more than one element and more then one stroke including the past, present and future.

The elements involve self, team-mates, equipment, water, movement, harmony, mismatch, load, flow, hardness, relaxation, sequences, positions, focuses, emphasis, location, energy, strain, surge, comparison, connection, separation, isolation, effort, ease, understanding, knowledge, risk, exposure, confidence, doubt, poise, purpose, clarity, mistakes, errors, forgiveness, acceptance, love, joy, fear, ambiguity, tension, dynamics, leverage, struggle, difference, compliments, coaching, thoughts, distractions, intentions, actions, results, exchange, change, habits, confusion, satisfaction, uncertainty [..]

One stroke is so hard to describe, I know it when I feel it and some times I know it when I see it. Maybe the one is not perfect but we make it so because we like the idea of it being better than it really was.

The experience of rowing fascinates me because it has so many things it relates too. What I do know is that when I am engaged things change. The world looks and feels different and it gives me hope. Giving in to it, but not letting it get the better of you is critical. That may sound strange but there is something about being part of the boat, the movement, the other person, and the surroundings that makes so much sense of everything. [..]

Accessing the moment is not just about rowing, but I find it palatable to articular the action of rowing in a way that means something. One stroke at a time is a cliché and like one shot at a time it has meaning if you connect with it in some way. [..]

One stroke then is like every other stroke and they in turn they are like the days of life we live. It is just an experience how I choose to judge it or them is my choice. Years ago I watch a video the Searle Brothers made about their 1992 Olympic Games success in the coxed pair. In the video Greg spoke of a simple activity they did which involved calling out better or worse as a measure for each stroke they rowed. The idea I guess was to have more, better strokes and as such you develop accountability and improvement.

One stroke means different things and the reasons are varied. What enables full engagement in one stroke or in the moment is also varied. [..] One stroke unfolds and expands. Its meaning is huge and the vastness of experience is inspiring. Being at one in one is the art to rowing I suppose which really isn’t anything new, but repeated. So you see, like me, a cliché can mean so much which it does. [..]

Another Favourite Blog Post from Drew Ginn. A truly amazing description of rowing[/paddling] and as is usual with Drew's writings I can relate to in many ways.

I always find the strokes from the start to transition are the easiest to remember. Darren calls them the "glory strokes" and in many ways they set the boat up for the rest of the effort. Get it right and you are on the way. Get it wrong and you are on the back foot trying to recover. Can also remember some lift calls in various efforts over the years.

Love the description of 'Knife-Edge' and 'Edgy Contrast'. I often feel that when the effort is such that things seem to be edgy, that is where we need to be. Always wary of that that perfect feeling.