I went rafting last weekend with my family; it was a trip my daughter had planned and that would appeal to the more adventurous members of our clan, basically everyone except me. If you are a serious or experienced rafter this was probably just a fun day on the river. But I am neither of those things, it was maybe the second or third time I had been, and for me it was disorienting and frightening. I like to have a plan, to have an overview of what is going to happen and then to prepare for each piece as a part of the whole, and given that I don’t have much experience with this activity that is not something I could reasonably do. I had never experienced a “Class IV” rapid, so though there was an overview provided I had no concept of what that would be like. Not all of the other members of my family on the trip had experienced this kind of rafting, but to a person they were much more willing to just do what the guide said and learn along the way.

One of the things that the guide said a lot was “let’s go forward,” which meant we were all to paddle forward in unison. After a few strokes he would say, “and, stop!” which meant you had to pull your paddle out of the water immediately. I didn’t mind doing this when we were in the float sections of the river; I was full of anxiety in the rapid parts because one person not doing it the way we were supposed to, or when we were supposed to meant that the whole trajectory of the raft could change at an inopportune time. You had to go at the right time, and you had to stop at the right time, and you had to trust that there was someone else who was making these decisions for our benefit and safety. All we had to do was follow directions and cooperate.

Being the person I am, in the moments we were floating along gently, as I watched the granite cliffs and improbable trees growing from rocks slip by, I started thinking about sabbath and how that fits into our life, or not, and how hard it is for us to trust that someone else has given us directions that are designed for our safety and well-being.

By the seventh day God had finished his work. On the seventh day he rested from all his work. God blessed the seventh day. He made it a Holy Day because on that day he rested from his work, all the creating God had done. – Genesis 2:2-4, The Message

It occurred to me that there are times when we have to go forward, we have to make an effort, we have to push to get to that next destination. And there are times when we need to recognize the wisdom of stopping; doing more overpowers, overcorrects, pushes us in the wrong direction. It can lead to awkwardly huffing and puffing to get back in the boat as you turn in an eddy, icy cold from snowmelt water, and perplexed as to how you got out when you wanted to stay in. This happens in the river and it happens in life. If we haven’t experienced it ourselves we have surely seen others in this state. We have to know when it is time to stop; a lot can happen in those moments and we need to get out of our own way to allow that unfolding.

I used to work as a consultant and advised people on how to operate organizations or groups. One of the things I did to make myself more qualified was to study the Six Sigma system, and I worked my way up to black belt. Constant improvement is the mantra of the system. Plan – Do – Check – Act so that you can go back to Plan. Endlessly. Always to do more, faster, better, more efficiently. Maybe you can argue that the ‘check’ step is rest but I don’t think it is a good argument because it’s really about analysis for refinement not just letting things move along as they will and adapting as needs arise. I counseled my clients that it was always better to be proactive than reactive. But I think now that there is something in between, it is not a constant state of doing, or at any rate it shouldn’t be. That’s what our guide says.

Sometimes you just have to stop. Sure you may find yourself reacting to changed conditions that require attention, but at least you will be rested. And yes maybe you are looking downriver so you know when it is time to again be proactively engaged. But sometimes the right thing to do is to stop, to just float, to notice the trees, and the ducks that look like rocks, and rocks under the brilliantly clear water. When you stop you get to notice where you are, who you are with, why you are with them. Then together, all together, you get to go forward.

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