Fitness, Health & Spirit: High Notes in the Chorus of Life

August-September 2000

This is an article from WaveLength Magazine, available in print in North America and globally on the web.

by Doug Lloyd

West coast sunset off Blackie Spit, Crescent Beach, BC. Photo Sandy Ferguson

From the moment, over twenty years ago, that I slid into the comfortable confines of my new sea kayak and paddled away from shore, it was obvious that I was entering a pastime with potential to enhance both mental and physical health. Little did I realize how integral sea kayaking would become to my lifestyle and overall well-being during the ensuing decades. Nor did I comprehend how significant the spiritual benefits would be, or the sense of responsibility for nature that would result.

Perhaps it's the intimate proximity to nature which helps so readily connect a paddler's mind, body, and soul. One is surrounded by an intensity and immensity of seascape with an enormous variety of sights, sounds and smells - all supplied by the ocean's limitless vitality.

The actual physical benefits of paddling a sea kayak vary depending on individual enthusiasm levels and abilities, but there is always a sense in which a relaxed invigoration of our muscular, skeletal, and circulatory systems occurs, promoting a higher level of fitness. While it is not a weight bearing activity in the normal sense (Editor's note: except when you're lugging fully loaded expedition kayaks up the beach!), kayaking does supplement other exercise regimes well, and can excel over other strenuous activities when it comes to elevating your body's metabolic rate. After a good day of sea kayaking, my body continues burning calories long through the night while I sleep.

Other physical benefits can occur, even back on the beach after a day's paddle. I frequently walk along wave-washed strands of an exposed sandy beach, permitting cool, therapeutic sea breezes to gently caress my body with the sensual touch of an intimate massage. In the presence of the sun's moderating infusion, sea breezes have the ability to rejuvenate soft tissue and relieve aching, tired muscles.

As evening approaches, the breeze blowing off shoreline breakers engulfs my entire being with rekindled enthusiasm and desire for engaging the following day's physical activities. In the early morning, I will often walk out to a distant promontory, breathing in deeply the sharp, pungent fresh morning air. The ozone-charged, moisture saturated air replenishes and refills my lungs fully with life-giving force, quickly oxygenating my body. The special properties of ocean air offer a stimulation that stirs the blood, sharpens all the senses and my mind for the day's navigational challenges ahead.

The ancients have long recognized the healing agency of ocean water. Modern science shows us that sea water contains not only suspended salt, but also a host of other trace minerals-some rare and found only in the bountiful ocean. I love early afternoon paddles in the summer on moderately white-capping seas, when it is warm enough to remove top wear (save for your PFD). The cool, liquefied alchemy splashes over my salt-encrusted forearms and shoulders, spattering my face, stimulating endorphins and other beneficial bodily responses.

Climbing out of my kayak at the water's edge, the sensory stimulation of waves washing around my feet and legs provides a delightful counterpoint to long hours spent paddling. Blood throbs and rushes to the skin's surface, beginning a purge of lactic acid.

Too few paddlers experience the joys of a full-body swim. The ability of cold, ocean water to add impetus to the healing of inflamed joints and sore ligaments are as real to me as any pharmaceutical prescription and as real as the waves of satisfaction that surge and inundate my inner- and outer-man with healing and wholeness.

(Editor's Note: when I experienced back spasms on a paddling trip, I found that first standing in cold water, then gentle swimming helped speed recovery and allowed me to paddle every day with surprisingly little pain.)

Time spent on the ocean and at the ocean's edge, not only imparts a range of physical benefits, it can also be restorative to mental health-helping us maintain a positive perspective. We all have stress in our lives: the non-specific response our mind and body undergo to outside demands and pressures. Recreation therapy has long been recommended as a relaxation strategy to counteract the harmful effects of too many stressors. So too is the recommendation for specific stress-reducing physical activity. The two combine synergistically within the framework of sea kayaking.

I find that annoying personal problems are left behind at the beach. Even serious impediments will readily discard into the ocean's depths within a short distance of shore where swift currents wash away existential angst. Interludes of quietude that permit times of reflection and essential 'emptiness' so necessary and often not easily realized in the rush of modern life. My mind finds mending, my heart finds tranquillity, and my soul finds egress. I call it moving meditation.

Another important health consideration is the intrinsic need within most individuals for what might be called 'deep play'. Deep play happens at a variety of levels within the various outdoor pursuits, where one challenges personal skill levels through acceptable risks. Sea kayaking opens our minds up to the sensations, fun, and re-creation of continuity in our lives through rediscovery of wild nature. Unlike risk-taking activities that reduce to a simple 'adrenaline rush' (like bungy-jumping), the state of well being produced during a wilderness adventure paddle is more than a mere transitory euphoria-it lasts long after returning home. These kinds of affirmations are among the high notes in the celebratory chorus of life.

For me, paddling exposed coastline, negotiating large ocean surf, navigating difficult tidal passages, and developing the boat handling/rescue skills required to safely engage difficult weather conditions, satisfy an innate need for my particular version of deep play. In the context of wilderness, this helps me find a sense of person and place. Most deep play that transpires in a capricious environment like the ocean gives high regard to three-dimensional cognitive abilities along with the humility to recognize personal and technical limits. To safely enjoy deep play, the individual must be closely attuned to the environment and have great respect toward it. Unfortunately, very deep play is often labeled as overly macho-merely a male disposition of the boy-man, when it is really exclusive of gender.

Sea kayaking also offers a unique spiritual dimension to wilderness adventure travel, sublime moments, where spiritual strivings rise to the surface like an oceanic upwelling carrying you away on currents of deep thought-whether your specific world-view is theistic, atheistic, agnostic, pantheistic, or scientific. The main tenet of this experience is that nature has intrinsic value beyond the merely materialistic-a conviction which resonates universally in those who seek communion with nature in wild places.

This kind of spirituality can move us beyond religious tradition and liturgy, without supplanting existing belief systems, proving that human spirituality isn't restricted to weekend worship in man-made sanctuaries. In the purity of wilderness, there is transformation, renewal and strength. Parables from the ocean and wilderness speak to me as clearly as any sermon. Here, in the peace and harmony of nature, my spirit is energized and my personal faith finds meaning and expression.

I felt this one afternoon outside the protection of Friendly Cove, near the southern tip of Nootka Island off Vancouver Island's West Coast-an area rich in First Nation whaling history and indigenous spiritual tradition. I witnessed at length a young Orca receiving parental instruction on the finer points of meal finding. Against the magnificent backdrop of cliffs at Maquinna Point and the brittle blue skies above, I bounced about in the reflected waves until overcome by a preponderance of primal import: all life is part of a wondrous, mysterious, inter-related and inter-dependent, intricate web.

Nature and wilderness are innate within the gene-deep fabric of who we are. We have a biological need to be energized and nurtured by the environment, lest we wither and die. We must make an effort to apprehend the mystery of wild nature and develop ethically-based earth-keeping skills. It is just this sense of mystery and insight-this kind 'spiritual response' that sea kayaking evokes.

The entire mysterious, meta-physical experience came together for me one stormy day while hunkered down on North Brooks, near Cape Cook on Vancouver Island. I took shelter from the gale within the gentle, emerald mist of ancient rainforest. Lush, green vegetation swayed to eternal rhythms. Timeless winds whistled through trees high above while the song of the surf filled the heavy air below. I sat silent and motionless under a taut tarp, deep in the discipline of long thought, yet careful to observe every facet of the pelagic panorama playing out before me. By simply opening channels of sensory perception and intuitive awareness, I came under the spellbinding influence of earth, sea and sky. The environment that surrounded me imprinted deeply. It got inside me. I was witness to such a rich stimulus of animation, movement, life, and piercing beauty that it was almost too painful to watch.

I was a finite creature, sitting at the bare edge of something infinitely larger than self-an eternal, unfathomable mystery, a cosmic imponderable-and drawing a bit nearer to the mystery of all things. Even with a gale raging, a serene stillness overcame me, one incomparable to mere silence. An overarching sense of oneness simultaneously took me deeper within yet further outside of myself - leaving me awash in reverential awe and profound wonder at the amazing grace of simple existence and the miracle of each minute of life.

Doug Lloyd is a frequent contributor to WaveLength and lives near Victoria, BC. He donates his honorarium for his articles to the Georgia Strait Alliance. ©