A couple of weeks ago, during Dragon Boat Festival, my friends and I drove to Qingyuan, a city nearby my city. We stayed in a delightful place along the river. When we drove up, we noticed a collection of kayaks next to the river, and I decided that I really wanted to go if we could.
On our last day before heading back home, I asked my friends if they wanted to go kayaking. The weather was overcast, but it wasn’t raining, and I convinced myself that it would be fine. We agreed to go, and after breakfast, the owner of our bed and breakfast got three kayaks ready. There were six of us, so we could each have a partner.
I lathered myself in sunscreen, left my phone behind, and headed down to the gravelly beach. Three kayaks sat waiting for us: red, blue, and orange. My roommate, Kendra, and I wanted to ride together, but the guide suggested that we split up to have a guy and a girl, so I ended up with Brandon.
As we prepared to get in, the guide gave us some tips about how to row and how to twist the paddle when alternating between the left and right hands. He also advised us to look up rather than down at the paddles. Blah, blah, blah. Yeah, I knew all that. I tuned out most of the rest of the advice because I figured I’d been kayaking before and hadn’t had any problems. Besides, I was anxious to start.
He gave us a few instructions on some landmarks to keep in mind, but I figured the Chinese members of our group or the people brave enough to bring their phones could take care of that information. But I did notice when he pointed out a rock that was jutting out into the river. That rock was the half-way point.
We got situated in our kayaks and headed out into the current. The beginning was pretty easy because the current carried us along. As Brandon and I tried to find our rhythm, I asked if we could go fast for a few minutes. It was fun, but that few minutes was enough for me, and apparently enough for Brandon. After that initial spurt, he said that he wanted to just go slowly, and that was fine for me. When we paddled, I tried to get our strokes in sync, but at the beginning, the current carried us.
After a few minutes, our guide caught up to us in his motor boat and told us we were reaching the end of the current and it would get harder. It had also started misting and a few minutes later, the mist turned into rain. I was glad I had left my phone and my watch behind. I tried to enjoy the rain. At least we weren’t hot, and it also wasn’t as cold as the day that we tried to go swimming. Thankfully, the rain didn’t last long, but I got wet enough from the paddle anyway.
Brandon and I stayed solidly in the back of our little trio of kayaks, but I pushed down my competitive spirit and enjoyed the ride. After all, I reminded myself, we weren’t pay by the hour. We paid a set fee (that wasn’t cheap!), and now we could enjoy the trip for as long or as short as we wanted. I was glad that Brandon was into the longer, more relaxing journey.
I carefully rotated my paddle like the guide had showed us and watched the trash floating by. I was sad to see so much trash, and I wondered where it was all coming from.
As we approached the half-way mark, and I still looked at the paddles, trying to get them in sync, I finally remembered the advice from our guide: “Don’t just like at the paddle. Look up!” He had said.
I had enjoyed the beautiful scenery, but I had also been very focused on my paddle and my friends. In that moment, I stopped focusing up, and looked at the hills lining both sides of the river. The view was stunning.
The river was wide and the hills came right up to the edge of the river in some places. I didn’t have my phone, so I couldn’t take a picture (all pictures are courtesy of our guide or my friends). But rather than taking pictures, I drank in the scenery with my eyes. Even though it wasn’t raining, the mist hung around the mountains giving everything a mystical feeling. I felt like I was looking at a Chinese painting with mountains and lots of white space.
How often am I so focused on what I’m doing and whether or not I’m doing it right and how fast I’m going rather than looking up and enjoying the beautiful world that I’m in. I often find myself getting distracted by the small things and losing sight of the beauty around me.
I lose sight of the rain on the trees outside my window while I write. I lose sight of the sunset behind the buildings. Playing soccer helps me to enjoy the sunset because that’s one of the few times that I’m in a wide enough space to really see the sky. But the sun does set every single day whether or not I pay attention to it.
I lose sight of people because I’m focused on my pain.
I lose sight of so many things. I love the reminder to not look at my paddle. Look up and enjoy the beauty around me. Beauty is everywhere.