I've been pretty preoccupied lately. Because of this, I have felt a bit of a regression in my surfing. Not making the drop, not popping up as quickly as usual, losing my balance in situations where I'm usually pretty solid and being nervous and uncomfortable in situations where I'm usually pretty confident.
This preoccupation has not been something forced (as in the grind) but an occupation of what we find as we journey through life. A lot of good things have filled my life and I'm pretty lucky for them. But at times it has taken away from my surfing, the one thing I really cherish and love in this universe. Lately, I have been reminiscing the grom days. Days when I had no idea what a surf forecast was and would hit the beach "just because". "Just because" I love the ocean and how it feels, from the gentle wave to the 60 second hold down. I miss not being able to sleep due to the excitement of going "surfing" the next day. I miss the excitement of driving down to the beach, getting out of my car and smelling that cold, moist, salty ocean at five in the morning, running out to the cliff and either being stoked that it was firing or disappointed because it was flat.
I miss not having any expectations. Yes, I guess that's what this whole entire written process/ ramble is all about. Not having one - fucking - expectation of what's out there. Just being. Being whatever on a whatever day on our beautiful planet in front of our beloved Pacific. When did that feeling of just being - being a surfer - leave? I have no idea when... I remember last year when I paddled out with my cousin at Lani's on the North Shore, it being over head to double over head and not even giving a damn about my "skill level". Did I realize that the surf on that day was way beyond it? No, I just paddled out and went for it. On that day, I caught my first legit tube. A year later, in a similar situation in El Salvador, the same waves were beyond my skill level. On that day, all I felt was nervousness and fear. What was the difference between both days? Me? The waves? The company? My head? I have no idea. Is it suppose to make sense? No tiende...
I took that concept of having no expectations with me on Saturday to Ocean Beach. I met up with Johnny in front of the restaurant not knowing that hundred's of people were taking care of Mrs. O.B. and working to make her spiffy clean. It was a great thing to see (and join), and even better when it was unexpected. The surf looked small, but we insta-suited up, ran out to the salt water and jumped in. The surf wasn't great, but then again, it was great just because. After paddeling around for a bit, I nodded at Johnny towards Kelly's. Johnny took a look and we both said to each other "Why not?"
We caught one to the shore, walked over to Kelly's and low and behold, a couple of clean wedges were forming up for some chest high fun. The crowd was plenty, but I didn't expect much, so it really didn't matter. I watched a couple of the old school O.B. regulars rip one wave after another, throwing buckets and tossing air. Felt like I was young again by just being a spectator. Did I catch a few? I caught a handful of decent waves that had me smiling ear to ear. Did I take a couple spills? Yeah, here and there, but I accepted it because I was taking a couple risky waves because I just wanted to "go for it" again. We ended up staying at Kelly's for a good two hours, leaving the water only when our arms could no longer paddle.
Time, age and experience bring a lot of wisdom and character. But at the same time, I think they also hold us back. When I'm with younger folks, I see them taking risks just because they don't know any better. And I guess that's what I want to get back into, not knowing any better and just going for it.
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| This has been deep thoughts by yours truly. |
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