"Surf Up "
I live in Southern California. Orange County to be precise. And, if you weren't aware, just west of California happens to lie an ocean. A rather large ocean (just in case you skipped that day in geography). In my efforts to assimilate into the California lifestyle, I have recently taken up a new pastime. Body boarding.
Yes, on 50 degree weekend mornings, the Mighty Jimbo squeezes his body into 200 bucks worth of black neoprene and paddles out into 58 degree salt water. The purpose? Why, to float on a four foot foam and plastic board in an effort to catch and ride several tons of moving water. I'm certain many of you have attempted this recreation before. Always an exciting experience -- if somewhat masochistic. Shivering, drenched, and near drowned, I couldn't think of a better way to spend my weekends. I haven't graduated to surf boards yet. That's a bit down the road for me.
But, there's a lot more to the ocean and wave riding than meets the eye. In fact, the ocean gets me contemplating, philosophizin', using some of that right brain juice that can grow old and moldy if you don't squeeze some out every now and again. In fact surfing can be almost a spiritual experience. If you find yourself in California or Hawaii or Australia, anywhere people are riding waves, pick a surfer out and ask him about it. Chances are, he or she will say once you catch a wave, once you stand up on that board, there is no going back. And there is no greater thrill. Period.
Just a couple days back I was out on a 2 - 4 foot day at high tide. The waves were relatively smooth, kinda thick, and difficult to time. The shoreline was very eroded. The sand abruptly dropped off, creating a high shore break that was a real bitch to cross. I was not really into getting pounded by surf today. If fact, I was a bit scared.
A four foot wave doesn't sound all that scary, huh? Keep this in mind, I am an Arizona boy. Not a whole lot of experience with wave riding, but I am a life guard with tremendous respect for the water. And, a four foot wave viewed from lying prone beneath it can look absolutely terrifying. You see, a wave is judged by its height from the rear. 4 feet from the rear means a 5 to 7 foot face. If you have never stared at that much water building and churning and thundering at you while you lie directly beneath it -- well, let's just say you will instantly develop a new respect for the power of the ocean.
Jimbo decides to call it a day. I do not want to overestimate my meager abilities at this new sport. I am cold, and I have yet to properly judge one solitary wave. Besides, my car is out of time on the meter. I paddle back to shore, unhappy about today's adventure. I walk 100 yards down the shore, and low and behold, the eroded shoreline has created something of a sand reef. Wave after wave is rolling in, curling beautifully, and providing 12 or so surfers with perfect barrels to practice their tube riding skills . Just 100 yards down the shore.
But such is the ocean. Always fickle, unforgiving, always changing.
A lot like this journey of life we endure.
The ocean, like our very lives, is invariably evolving, changing, undulating, and, in all reality, there is nothing any of us can do to change that. The power and immensity of life is too awesome; it shall not be controlled or stopped.
But it can be ridden.
We don't have to be a helpless little bobber in life. We need not be pushed, prodded and buffeted by the waves and currents until one day we simply drown into the undertow or smash into the rocks. Nor do we have to be the lonely tourist on the shore, watching the adventurers in the waves, secretly wishing we "could do that"-- living a life of quiet desperation. We all have our boards. We all have the ability to take those waves and ride them any which way we please.
We know the journey will always be ebbing, moving, rolling beneath our feet, pushing us into some unknown future. Yeah, at times we're gonna take a tumble, a pounding by the relentless forces above us. At times, the journey will be thoroughly terrifying as we stare up at the awesome, oncoming forces, helpless to stop or even sway them.
However, times always come about, maybe just 100 yards down the shore, when life will provide beautiful opportunities and challenges to test our skills, and our courage. Adventures and rides guaranteed to enrich, to envelope, to enthrall, and to enrapture. The thrill is in the doing. The thrill is in the ride. With the first wave you catch the cold, the fear, and the fatigue melt away into a powerful rush of adrenaline and ocean spray.
I have to write this to remind myself. I have to write this to challenge you. Get off the shore and venture. How long must we live to realize that life...is short.
Live. Risk. Try. Adventure is truly the spice of life, and a life without chance is merely an existence, just another cell in an ecosystem. I'm not simply a cell or a cog. I need to remind myself of that every day I have to trudge and paddle into the cold and terrifying breakers. But, maybe, just maybe, 100 yards down the shore, lies the ride and the thrill of my life.
