Beaches Open. Back Surfing.

It was this article, shared by my buddy and fellow hard core beach bum Steph, that sent me cartwheeling around the room with a shit-eating smile on my face last week. The countdown to the beaches reopening to surf had begun.

Monday couldn’t come fast enough. I didn’t give a damn that Magic Seaweed was boasting a less than fair forecast. I had to get out there.

I jumped in at Long Sands for the first time in over two months and immediately felt that inner boost. My first wave, I caught a left, which sent me over the moon. I’d almost felt sure that I’d come back and lose everything I’d worked on over the winter.

Wednesday, I drove up to Long Sands and had to keep driving north, as it was almost unsurfable—sloppy and choppy. Short Sands had some rubber suits but I kept driving north, as it was low tide and I knew the spots that might be working. Peeeeeeeling waves just north of York and I was so stoked that for the first time, some local earned knowledge came in handy. After a long paddle, and a sweet wave, I got my ass handed to me when I got caught in the inside. I tried to paddle back out but, afraid of how gassed I was getting and knowing I’d been on the bench for two months, I decided I’d save it for another day.

Which was today! Happy day at Long Sands w Maddie. Love sharing waves with her. Just north of restaurants was perfect and I was so sad to leave the 80 degree weather for the computer but it was just the beginning of warm water.

The silver lining of not surfing for two months is that it’s almost 4/3 time, and the water’s actually started to warm up. Life is good.

Missing Surf in the Days of COVID-19

I have so much to be grateful for in this strange unprecedented time. My loved ones. My health. A stable source of income. And I think about that and dwell in that gratitude every day.

But I’m struggling with the closures of the beaches due to COVID-19.

Not being able to pull up, wax my board and paddle out—not being able to call up friends for an early morning pre work session, not feeling that happiest of feelings as I pop up and ride the face—I really miss it. It’s like a hole in my heart. It’s like a phantom limb.

I’m so grateful for what I have. And I can stand behind measures to keep us safe, 100%. But it doesn’t mean I’m wild for it. It doesn’t mean I’m not going bananas when I drive by the beach [which I haven’t been able to stop doing] and there’s just peeling glass. Endless peeling glass and not a bobbing neoprene donning body in sight.

It’s been 2-3 weeks or more since I last got into the ocean and I’m feeling it. I’m feeling buzzy, itchy, grumpy. My skin is suffering—that salt water in the winter has been such a salve against the awful ornery New England winters. And frankly, some days I feel a direct correlation with my confidence level. Surfing for me, is such an instant boost to my confidence and my energy. It instantly makes me feel happy. It instantly makes me feel good. I miss that. Miss it really bad.

I know what I need to do. I need to take advantage of all the surf workouts being posted, I need to get back into my surfboard making project I’ve been doing with Maddie, I need to visualize and dream myself on the water. I need to watch the endless queue of surfing movies I have saved. So that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to stay focused, stay in shape and dream of surf. In the words of Kolohe Kai—”I’ve got a date with Ms Blue.” The date’s just TBD.

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Cerrando Circulos: On Old Chapters Closing, New Chapters Opening

Yesterday was my final day at work at Boston University, where I’ve been working since May 2013.

I got to campus early and headed to Life Alive to have some coffee and finish up a couple thank you notes I had yet to write for my team. And as I was sitting there at the bar, waiting for my coffee, writing my note to my mentor Sara Rimer, Michael Kiwanuka’s song Home Again came on. In that exact moment, I had literally been thinking: It has been so helpful for me to have a woman like Sara in my life, especially with my mother gone.

That song came on and I was knocked off my feet. It was like being swept away by a wave.

I first heard that song years ago, right after my mother died. I remember it so clearly. I was sitting on a bean bag chair in Restoration Hardware and it came on. These lyrics pierced my heart like an arrow:

Home again
Home again
One day I know
I'll feel home again
Born again
Born again
One day I know
I'll feel strong again

In that time of my life, I was so broken and so lost. I missed my mother so much and I had so many regrets that wracked my heart about what I could have done differently while she was alive. And I remember hearing the words of that song and just longing to feel that way again someday. Home again. Strong again. Feeling so very far away—like I was looking at that state of being from a distant shore.

Seven years later, sitting at the counter of Life Alive, it came on. And I realized I felt that way. Home. Strong. So grateful for where I am in my life, who I have in my life, and where I am and where I’m heading.

I have literally never heard that song in public any other time but those two—Restoration Hardware and Life Alive, yesterday.

And this is why I believe in everything. Believe in magic, believe my mother is still shining up there and keeping tabs on me, believe in the starry connections, fairy dust, the whole thing.

In a moment the light switched off and it was only stars for miles.