cold hands, warm heart?

Last week Liz and I rowed the pair, on one of the coldest mornings of the year. This is the boat where each person has one oar. Which makes it the most complicated boat a peron can row. You cannot simply do your own thing or you WILL tip the boat over. We told ourselves "no tipping this morning" and we dreamed of Peets the whole time we were out.

It was so cold, in fact, that we had to stop at the end of the creek and simply sit in the boat and try and warm up our hands. It was so cold, and the oar handles so cold, that our hands were aching, very painful. I blew on them, put them under my arms, wiggled my fingers. I had a little sense of what real exposure to cold must feel like. When the pain subsided we took off rowing and did not stop moving until we got to the dock. Too cold!

The pair always serves up such amazing lessons. Again, the lesson the other day was hands. In the pair, you get instant feedback on every aspect of the stroke. If I pull a bit too hard, we feel that. If Liz does it, we feel that. If my hands are not lightly gripping, but rather death gripping, we feel that, the boat feels tense and does not move well.

I thought of this lesson this morning at church. We had a great service, but at some point I felt myself get irritated at some small thing. I thought to myself "light hands, Grossman!" and it actually helped me diffuse myself, prevent a potential irritable remark which would have been singularly unhelpful. Now if I could only do it on the Corte Madera creek!