What I Learned on the Water a Long Time Ago

Recently I started organizing virtually with someone I knew in college over 20 years ago. We had not stayed in contact with each other beyond Facebook, and yet it felt so easy to pick back up. Hearing a voice that reminded me of my home state brought back memories of other versions of myself.

You may not think of Oklahoma as a rowing hotspot, and it was not in the late 1990s when I attended Oklahoma State University. (In recent years, Oklahoma City became home to one of two U.S. Olympic Committee training centers for rowing.) The crew team seemed like a cool, east coast type of thing to do. (I had wanted to go to school out of state.) It was a bonus when I noticed some British guys at the crew team info session. (British guys, a rarity in Oklahoma!)

As a petite (and not particularly athletic) person, I ended up as a coxswain or cox. The role of the coxswain is to manage the boat, steering and safety, while the rowers do their thing. Coxswains are a sort of coach in the boat. Did it matter that 1) I had no idea what I was doing or 2) I could not swim? No, as it turns out, those things didn’t matter. (The not swimming part served as extra motivation to not tip or crash the boat.) Showing up for practice at 5:30am did matter. Working out with the team and learning rowing terminology and drills mattered. Not things that came easily to me, but things I grew to love, as I have grown to love organizing.

Coxswains and organizers need to be able to build trust, coordinate and motivate people and have respect for people and property.

Trust. Rowers trust that the coxswain will keep them safe on the water and while docking and getting the boat back to the boathouse or trailer. Their attention is focused on rowing. When I work with clients who are tidying, part of my role is to watch and listen, to help the client develop trust in themselves as they organize. So that they can connect with what sparks joy for them. I’m not doing the work for them, in the same way I wasn’t rowing in the boat.

Coordination. You could feel when timing was off in a boat. If the oars were not going in the water and coming out at the same time, I jerked back and forth vs. gliding along smoothly. Giving gentle guidance to get the crew back in sync helped reduce the whiplash. When you move around in an organized space, it has an easy feel. You know it when you feel it. I help people focus on that feeling, what sparks joy for them, so that they can feel ease in their homes and themselves.

Motivation. Managing energy levels in the boat was key. Methods to do this varied depending on the length of the race. Sometimes I asked the rowers to increase the stroke rate. During a marathon race, I had to get creative to lighten the mood and keep motivation up. (Also we had to have an endless supply of bananas.) As an organizer, part of my role is to manage energy, through encouragement, diplomatic advice, gauging energy levels, and pausing for breaks/snacks. We are all limited resources.

Respect. Organizing isn’t about organizing, and sports are not about sports, unless you’re a professional athlete. It’s about teamwork, connection to others. There is an etiquette and order to rowing that keeps everyone safe and keeps (expensive) equipment in good working order. We had an old bright orange boat and received minimal funds from the school for the team, so keeping the boat in one piece was important. We were in tune with the boat and its idiosyncrasies. Same with our belongings. An item that is well loved and well taken care of can take us far.

I have a great deal of respect for clients who are tidying their spaces. They are overcoming challenges, life transitions and rewriting the stories that they tell themselves about their homes. There is magic in the shift in energy in an organized space. It is something that becomes a part of who they are, how they show up in the world. I have respect for the women in the boat; they showed up at ungodly hours and learned to work together. “Women rule” as it says on the van window in the photo.

Coxing is a part of who I am, even though I no longer have that awesome crew hat that I wore most days for 3 years. I have the memory of calm early mornings on the water, fog rising, watching sun come up. I see the joy on our faces after winning a marathon in Louisiana. Our connection to each other and to the spaces where we make memories, is what it’s all about.