Intentionality And The Backstroke
During my younger years, after summer had finally settled in for the long haul, and all we could do to keep the humidity from dragging us to the ground was to either stay in our air conditioned containers or go outside, we chose to go outside. We were kids. We had to go outside. Outside was where life happened! Of course, even the bravest of little Indiana boys could bear the heat for only so long, and eventually the fun would end, prematurely, usually in a puddle of sweat and bloodied knees. Our one alternative to either staying in the AC or risking our very lives in the outside heat was to embrace the wonders of the local swimming pool. And as with every good local swimming pool, there also had to be the traditional swimming lessons.
There was one stroke in particular which I despised: The backstroke.
The backstroke was (and probably still is) a source of challenge and annoyance for me. The backstroke was a moment by moment process. For example, one moment I would be surging past my competitors, a streamlined torpedo of speed and agility, and the very next moment, I would be surging on top of and torpedoing over my helpless and irritated neighbors. In my mind, the pool lacked barriers, anything to prevent me from crossing lanes. There was no way for me to distinguish one space from the next, no lines or objects to guide me from one end to the other. All I had was a vague hunch, a lack of or a barrage of neighborly screams, and some random “guiding” clouds up above, to keep me headed on a straight path. As the summer wore on, and as I was continually demoted to lower ranks of ability based on my poor backstroke rating, I found myself apathetic towards the backstroke. It was so difficult to navigate while going backwards that I simply decided to concentrate all of my energy into motion and leave direction somewhere far out of my swimming state of mind. Essentially, I became a drifter. A stroke here and a stroke there, large expenditures of energy, at random times, never really resulting in getting anywhere closer to my final destination, the other side of the pool. In fact, I had no intention of ever getting to the other side. I was content to flail about and simply drift.
Are you content to drift?
If so, it’s time to develop intention. A growing number of people are willing to drift through life, never engaging, never preparing, never facing down a challenge, never developing authentic relationships, never really trying. We simply float along, waiting for the next surge to push us this way or that. What are your intentions? If you don’t have any…get some! Why? Because you are capable of greatness. We all are, but greatness does not come to those who have no intention of ever getting there. Sometimes it seems as though we are swimming in circles while everyone else glides easily (in their own lanes!) from one side of the pool to the next. Don’t get discouraged. Go back to (or develop) your fundamental, baseline intentions. Stand-up, put your feet down, look around, understand where you’re headed and why, and then, start swimming again.
Intentions guide your direction while focusing your attention.
3 Comments
Parke , how true. Without lntentions (goals ,plans) you can never expect to accomplish. In all intentions, they ought to be honorable and inline with God’s intentions ( His Plan for us) as well — right? Keep up those super blogs. I always knew you were a talented writer. Remember the story you wrote about the fisherman caught in the storm. I still have a copy of it. I think you were only in 6th or 7th grade. It was so good the teacher thought you copied it, remember? Are you getting a lot of hits? Love G Pa
It’s also the easiest stroke in which to get water up your nose. I don’t know how this fits in the analogy, but that’s why I hate the backstroke. I hate water up my nose.
Found you through Relevant. I swam at club level until I was 13 or so. Backstroke was always my favorite. Apparently, I have a weirdly shaped head and NOTHING, nothing at all, will keep goggles on my face during a race. They always fly off when I do a racing start off the blocks. If I’m lucky, they just flip up to my forehead. If I’m not lucky, they flip over on my eyeballs, or fall off completely (and then I get to go track them down after the race–lame.) Backstroke–I’m already in the pool. It’s hard to get enough velocity going to have enough force to push my goggles off my face, so I always liked backstroke best. Then again, I learned backstroke indoors, so I always had the ceiling tile lines to guide me.