I often analogize my life to swimming because I perceive many similarities between the two. For example, during my continued attempts to improve my stroke, I keep hearing the same things over and over from my coaches. I try to do what I understand them to be saying. I think I’m actually implementing their guidance. Yet, I keep hearing “catch-up drill,” which is a signal that I am windmilling, e.g., flailing my arms, or “your hand is still dragging in the water” or “you’re still arching your back.”
I become frustrated because I’m trying my best and I don’t know how I can better perform what they’re telling me to do. I recognize that my mind knows what to do, but the body is just used to doing things a certain way. I have to continuously tell my body, “no, do it this way.” In the beginning, my efforts require much concentration and focus because my body does not want to change. It wants to continue doing what it has always done. That’s the easy way.
I particularly forget my technique when I’m in a lane with faster swimmers. I do whatever it takes to keep up, even if my form is incorrect. Many nonprofessional swimmers swim faster by sheer strength and effort. Unfortunately, as we age, we tire more quickly when our body position and strokes are inefficient.
It’s easier to concentrate on my technique when I’m alone and not in a lane where people are pushing me to go faster because they’re behind me or I’m pushing myself to go faster because I want to keep up with those in front of me. When I’m in a lane by myself, I can focus on my technique. I can see myself begin to flow.
Life is similar. When I meditate, participate in a workshop, or have a good yoga session, I can see everything that I’m supposed to do correctly. I’m at peace. I determine to keep this feeling, this frame of mind; yet, before lunch, my mind becomes irritated at the things that people do and say. I know what my proper response should be, but I fall back into my comfortable ways of thinking and reacting. Try as I might, it often seems as though I’m just not getting it.
Nevertheless, as with swimming, I keep trying. I want to swim in a faster lane. I want to move forward with less effort. At some point, the body finally responds. Then, there’s more to work on. My coaches note the progress I’ve made on my body position and move on to more specific instruction on the many aspects of improving my stroke. My elbow has to stay high. My hand has to go in a certain way. I’m not reaching all the way back. There are many variables involved in swimming efficiently – as there are in life.
I find a way not to react. I then have to find a way to be compassionate. I respond in a neutral manner, but must learn to respond lovingly. Once I manage one thing, there’s something else to grow into. It’s a continuum. Even saints have to work to stay where they are. They can drop to a lower level. The mythical devil is a fallen angel. It’s constant work.
For me, it seems to take a long time to accomplish one little thing and to reach a certain level in my training. It helps to recognize that learning and evolving are infinite concepts. No one that I know of gets to a certain point where s/he says, “ok, now I’m perfect.” I was surprised to hear the best swimmers on my team talk about how they weren’t going to go to a meet because they didn’t feel prepared. I’m thinking, “what?!?” They’re so fast. I look up to them. They are where I aspire to be, yet they aspire to be something greater than themselves. It’s neverending. They could be the top swimmers in our pool, but they’re not the top when they go to the national meets. The people at the national meets may be at the top, but they aspire to be Olympians. Maybe the Olympians want to be Michael Phelps or Simone Biles. Maybe Michael Phelps is thinking, “man, now I’m 30 and this little 15 year old beat me.” It’s just neverending.
Knowing this keeps me going when I’m feeling disappointed in myself or I feel like, “Gosh, I started out the day determined to do this, but I’m still letting my boss upset me. When am I going to get it?” It’s a continuum. I don’t know if we ever “get it.” We just get to a certain level and, then, strive to another level or another aspect of that level. There’s always something to work on because everything is infinite. We are infinite beings. Our potential is so very unlimited. We can always change, remake, move up, down, sideways, or backwards.
The key is to keep trying. Don’t ever give up.