Paddling with Purpose
/A Rugged Renewal in Baja
“Inhale as the wave rolls into your body, expanding your belly… ribcage…and collar bones, then exhale as the breath rolls out of you collar bones.. rib cage…and belly.”
The women lay on the soft sand, a low angled December sun coming up over the shoreline’s steep walls. Each has a hand on her low belly, and the other on her clavicle, the beginning of the morning’s yoga class with our sea kayaks beached nearby, tent doors rolled up and allowing the gentle breeze from the Sea of Cortez to air out the sleeping bags sticky from a night of deep rest.
Participants signed up for the “Rugged Renewal” with a calling that they answered. A calling to “re-connect with my inner adventurer,” to “be present, be open, connect with other women, have time in nature,” to “disconnect,” and to “unwind.”
All were saying yes to something that defies business meeting agendas, home tending checklists, or 90-day goals. A pull from the wild, calling directly to something we all share but may have been covered in systems that undermine a woman’s ability to honor their intuitive nature. Most participants showed up not having met any of the other brave women, save two friends sharing 25 years of friendship and living far from one another, using this trip as a way to dive into special memory making possibilities.
The ice was broken quickly on the drive from the airport in San Jose del Cabo to La Paz when each participant took a turn asking the group a question. Fantastical, thoughtful, or silly, the answers were honest and the women were on their way to realizing that this space was large enough to allow their full selves to be present. No pretending needed, and no hiding allowed. They all claimed something they intended to bring to the group: curiosity, observation, awe and wonder, love of poetry, a desire to be present. Humor and tears both encouraged, and comparisons or self-criticism quickly caught and tossed overboard by supportive new friends.
I often hear from participants that the experience was so much more than they were anticipating. Perhaps feedback on my lack of accurate marketing, but I think more so it is a result of the compartmentalization of our lives to such an extent that one does not expect something as spiritual as poetry to be incorporated into a sea kayak expedition. Or maybe it’s that these women aren’t used to being in an environment that celebrates and invites their feminine intuition while also utilizing their physical prowess.
On day three we set out for our longest paddle of the trip, covering almost the entire length of Espiritu Santo, the protected island off the coast of La Paz. Paddling into a headwind that wasn’t supposed to begin until hours later, our local guide encouraged the group to “paddle with purpose.” We pushed into the wind and waves, trying to engage our core muscles and keep from pulling with each stroke. One at a time, we crossed each bay, aiming slightly inland from the next point until we got out of the wind, then hugged the pink and coral colored cliffs as our kayaks glided over turquoise waters and rounded the next point, blasted again out of the lee of the shore.
Finally the wind and waves began to subside, and it was only one more crossing before we turned inland and cruised to the beach. Storing our rudders and drifting onto the white sand, we took our time exiting our kayaks, dangling our legs on either side of the boat first, to let a little sensation return after pressing into foot pegs, bracing for stronger strokes.
Tired and proud, the women radiated through the rest of the day, indeed the rest of the week. Many commented on the “good tired” that they had not felt in years, differentiating this from the fatigue that sets in as a result of lives filled with too many roles. We all know the ways in which, as women, we are working hard in corporate settings or as small business owners, only to come home to be lead parent, the one who knows what’s for dinner, when the laundry needs doing, a masterplan constantly floating at the forefront of ours minds while simultaneously trouble shooting the details.
One morning we rafted up on the water, kayaks side to side creating a floating classroom. I explained the flow of a resilient nervous system like the waves that lapped at our sides, constantly undulating, cresting and falling. Similarly (and oversimplified), our bodies move up into activation with stress, and down into relaxation with safety. Perhaps if we lived more closely to nature, this flow would occur all day long, and we would move through stress in ways that don’t leave us traumatized, or chronically fatigued, or with anxious minds that won’t turn off while we feel simultaneously paralyzed into inaction. Perhaps we would shake off the hard moments, the way the deer does, and then guiltlessly take a nap, or stare in awe at the beauty of the sunset without the impulse to post it to social media or to move on to the next thing, and the next, and the next.
These feelings of being “stuck on” and “stuck off” can be viewed as the result of unresolved threat responses. A range of biological factors and biographical events can contribute to our inability to successfully complete the body’s natural movement into and then out of threat. It is not only veterans of war that did not get to fight, flee, or freeze their way into safety; survivors of sexual assault, childhood neglect, inhabiting a body that is a target of discrimination and hate based on gender, race, religion, sexual preference, socioeconomic status.. and many more aspects of modern culture result in a seemingly fixed state.
And what is the solution? As a certified Somatic Experience Practitioner, my training enables me to work with individuals to track their bodies, learn to orient to safety (not only and always to threat), and to find creative ways to help the body find completion of a past threat in the here and now.
But out here, out in the wilderness, there is a better teacher. The day demands a rhythm, a listening. We wake in the morning and, without phones, we move slowly, we take in the colors, we talk quietly. The volume dial increases slowly on the day, until the sun is out and we need to move onto the water to get out of the heat. We push ourselves to get to the next camp, we pause along the way to connect, laugh, see our surroundings, fuel our bodies. After our long paddles, we rest. After rest, we play: beach bocce or naked swimming. At night, the moonlight makes headlamps almost unnecessary. We come together to eat, our words drift to the more spiritual, meaningful, and we sing. We stop with the logistics and find our way into Hafiz, Mary Oliver, the mystics and others who help us capture our feelings into a string of words that invite a feeling.
And in the supporting role of the natural world, is the sense of being one part of a larger whole. How often are women asked to dig deep together, not as individuals or as survivors, but as an empowered group… how often are we able to celebrate our collective accomplishments, not looking to be singled out but rather, heart swelling from the shared experience, in awe of our body’s abilities and grateful for the help from the others.
This “adventure wellness retreat” is not just adventure travel, nor is it a yoga retreat, a mindfulness workshop, or group counseling. It is a way to practice living…to move in rhythm with the natural world: the physical body we inhabit, the people we are with, and the whole expanse of sky above and the earth below.
Photo by Holly Hudley