The Hemfish Files: Vol. 3 – CommitmentTuesday, September 16th, 2008 by Hemfish |
I just bought an Indo Board. For those of you who don’t know what this is, these things have been around in some incarnation since at least the 70’s. (I remember trying not to kill myself on one in my neighbor’s garage when I was little.) My new one refers to itself as a “balance trainer”. It consists of two parts:
(1) A small platform, in this case an oval-shaped surface of laminated wood, slightly longer than shoulder width,
(2) A cylinder about 7” in diameter and as long as the platform is wide.
The idea is to stand on the wooden plank while balancing on the roller and roll back and forth or do tricks.
Like I said, mine proudly declares… Indo Board - Balance Trainer. I’m here to argue that this thing should be called a Commitment Trainer. Anybody who’s tried one of these things will know what I’m talking about.
The first thing I discovered when I hopped onto the Indo Board was…
Wait. I forgot one important construction element. Each end of the bottom side of the platform has a “lip” attached so if you roll the board all the way to one end or the other, it won’t roll right off the cylinder. Anyway…
The first thing I discovered when I hopped onto the Indo Board was that the further you roll towards the end of the thing, the more you have to direct your weight in the opposite direction. Now, up to a certain point, this is a subtle thing, a matter of finesse. As the tip of the plank, however, approaches the roller, it becomes necessary to truly lean the other way. And it is more than just leaning. In that final moment before the mere weight of the plank, itself, draws its opposite end to the floor, (the object being to avoid lowering either end,) you must actually throw your weight out into the abyss of the short end. If this move is not negotiated in anticipation of the motion’s terminus, trust me, you won’t recover.
It takes a leap of faith to stand on a flat surface and heave your weight to the right of your right foot, or vise versa. I have to say that for a guy who has trouble making decisions (I could peruse a diner menu for hours,) this has been a hell of a lesson, and a perfect metaphor.
The word “commitment” is often used in reference to surfing. (I think it has actually lost a little of its meaning from overuse.) I mostly hear it uttered in terms of one’s willingness to regularly paddle out in adverse conditions – too cold, too churned up, etc. The Indo Board has brought into focus a different connotation of the word, one relating more to the present moment.
Again, I’m a born waffler. Around fifteen years ago, I developed the philosophy that I should never bother trying to make a decision, (one that didn’t come naturally,) until it was absolutely necessary that such decision be made. That way, I wouldn’t waste energy rethinking it, questioning it, re-deciding… This philosophy has served me well in cases where the moment to make the decision was clear all along. But what of choices sprung on me spontaneously? I’ve still floundered at these possibilities. The Indo Board has taught me that sometimes, your decision must be coincident with, or even precede the choice being presented.
And what of open-ended choices, those options that present no date, no time of reckoning? Their question mark just drifts indefinitely in one’s mind, taunting. The Indo Board has taught me something here, too. Try to balance in a stationary position with the roller exactly in the middle. (Again, you Indo Boarders know what I’m talking about.) You can do it, but it sure wears down those core muscles quickly, and it’s nerve-racking. Roll to one end of the board and you can stand firm, like a flamingo when it is poised on one leg. Of course, you can only stand firm once you’ve learned to make that instant commitment to throw your weight in the proper direction.
I guess that’s what September has been all about for me: learning the importance and the skill of split-second decision-making so that I could learn the joy of committing to a decision for my own sake rather than out of necessity.
Paddling back out to the lineup recently, I found myself approaching the largest wave I’ve faced in a long time. In that instant, I spun and went - not normally my style, but in the spirit of the Indo Board. It was the drop of the summer, and I know that a moment’s hesitation would have caused me to miss it at best, or more likely, to get pitched and brutalized. This is the kind of commitment I’m talking about. It’s instantaneous, instinctual, and even primal, the payoff is huge, and the most superlative achievements in life require it!
