Waves are the Recipe: Be Surf

I can feel it on a cellular level when I need the ocean.

“Salt water heals,” my buddy Ollie said this summer. Age nine, budding surfer, she gets it.

I met Maddie at the beach today. She was soaking up as much heat as possible in the car, having been out for hours already. “It’s more fun than it looks,” she said. “Promise.”

And it was. 1-2 feet with random sets skewing on the 2+ sets and just plain CLEAN. No wind, sun was out in full force for the most part, and very few people out.

We started near Rest’s but the current sneakily pulled us north until we were nearly on top of B.H. It was ok. It was good.

The water. It really feels like the Source for me. It IS the source for me. It wipes everything clean, it refills the well, it does all the things that water does so well.

My mind is constantly whirring, like so many people’s, but when you’re surfing, even on a small day, you’re just looking at the waves, assessing, wondering “Will it go?”, wondering “Am I too far in?” wondering “Is this going to toss me?” These visceral in the moment thoughts crowd out those Dark Wolf thoughts that love to roam and lope and tear things up.

Waves are the recipe. Waves force you to be in the present. So all those questions, and then the paddle, and then you’re up and all you’re doing is riding the face and trying to throw something maybe, or just trying to wedge in and chill, and then some sort of energy geyser erupts and you’re just thinking “Weeeeeeeee!” Suddenly Dark Wolf is gone and you’re free.