Sam in Bali :: image courtesy of Bob & Sam SwensonThere was no one around. I mean no one. And it was flat. Calm as could be. Really . . . I guess it was what I would expect for a Sunday morning, late season. And as the sun fought for losing, just barely making its way through the haze, I still saw the water meet the sky.

And I was sitting on my fun board.  At least that’s what the guys I knew called it.  A relatively short board, light and quick to paddle, far too short for someone new to surfing.  But I had been working with it that whole summer.  And there I sat – somewhere between 9th and 30th Streets, Ocean City, MD. Not an ideal spot for catching waves – but just then, a light rain began to fall.

If you had read my last post, you might then know that I was vacationing recently with the fam along the Mid-Atlantic coast.  These are spots that I haven’t really (re)visited (for any extended period of time) for many years.  And as I stood there playing supplemental lifeguard to the two beautiful daughters . . . a regularity in the waves made my mind drift to other things.

I look at the girls and then out again and back to that time in my life – no one was there.  I sat solo gently gliding over a rhythmic tide – and I felt maybe only briefly – like I was sitting on that board and not missing it.  “Paddle Out!” my brain burps.

Now – I don’t want to mislead, my progress as a surfer stunted long ago — that fun board ridden now by my cats and only sometimes, in my attic.  But I will always have that rain. It fell light and steady for an hour or two, and I was set . . . simply occupying the space within her.

I mean – like a shower that washed away the excesses and the many mistakes of a far too short summer.  That experience – not my first ride. . . is the thing that makes the list.  The top 5 or perhaps top 10 most sublime and/or surreal experiences – hung a few steps down below an item labeled . . . Witness the birth of  two daughters.

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A little ways back in one of these posts, I wrote a section called “Is home improvement really a little bit like a surfing?”  The gist of that piece — and maybe it rolls up to larger topics, was something like ‘Home Improvement is 50% skill and 50% sheer will.’ But as I review the bit above – I realize, really, that that is not wholly an accurate statement. My pie chart, not much of a pie chart, and too large a percentage of error baked in.

With surfing, I remember it now – and maybe it was actually standing in front of her again, studying . . . every tiny undulation spilling eventually into a big blast of force. You see, a wave breaks only when the always-shifting surface below grabs it – acting as resistance to it.  And I think it’s kinda like some small portion of some grand equation that will never be fully calculated . . . . And I’m alright with it. In these cases, absolute answers are really not needed.  Because . . .

I know — the moon above, and the surfaces below work together to force the water to fold over on itself . . . or have I said that already — and is it all really more a matter of timing? That “sheer will” thing is simply not enough . . . when you surf.

Sam in Bali Air drop bottom turn :: image courtesy of Bob & Sam SwensonLike many other human endeavors, it is so totally beyond my human control — I too accept this.  Surfing is, as I see it, an exercise in the seeking of perfection. An agreement with natural forces.  And that agreement is needed, a hand-shake deal maybe, which is never fully obtained but always pursued.  And success measured only by the satisfaction perceived.

It is part putting yourself in the best position to ride, working with your tools not merely using them. Wiggling a little and adjusting as you move, like you are receiving and interpreting some *hrmm hrrmmm* . . . cosmic feedback.  Off one . . . sure (and sometimes less than gracefully) and onto another – hopefully applying something you have learned, unconsciously – the next time.  Act/React and just . . . ridddddde.

I really only caught one wave that day, September 1991, as if there was only one for me — or again, maybe it was October.  And as I sit here now, writing it out, I wonder how it really happened (and how I got myself here).  But I lie — I do know.  You see, I need the waves, and maybe those waves need me.

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OK, let me hear it . . . this essay may seem totally out of place, but it is in all ways in place – written, I can assure you. It’ll be one of these waves of inspiration, too, that gets me back on a board (and probably a longer one) some day.  But until then – I’ll simply wait and study, and continue to apply these lessons learned to everything I am and do . . . always.

Thanks for reading & BMoxie BMore!

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Photo Credit :: Pics of Sam Swenson in Bali via Bob Swenson.