Are You Living It?

Take enough time away from the keyboard and a slew of ideas present themselves for explication, like a group of 2nd graders waiting to say the right answer in social studies (hands up high, other hand holding the arm up, waving madly, “Oh me, me, me”… you get it). Some inspirational, some funny, some obvious extensions of of recent emotions and turmoil. My horoscope today said to discard the items in my life that resist decay.  I thought that was interesting; historically I have ruthlessly separated myself from the things that lose their shimmer and novelty, as if trying to deny the march of time.

One quality I find intriguing in so many elite athletes and their sports is the single minded pursuit of the “personal best” and their ability to focus on that goal over many years. Over the course of a career, or lifetime, personal bests can shift in meaning, and differ in reference to the markers they find themselves contrasted to. A common theme is the world champion whose strength and determination are unequaled amongst their peers; year after year they garner titles, accolades, honors and fame. Surprisingly, in my lifetime, I have witnessed the emergence of a great number of these individuals, watched with fascination the evolution of their careers, the moment of zenith, and their eventual recession into obscurity, signature steakhouses and car dealerships. However, there are a few fringe groups of athletes that hold one foot squarely in the realm of counterculture, and find distinction in that their pursuits, and the influence of those pursuits transcend mere game-playing and permeate their lifestyles, their philosophies, their networks, and their environment. I know there is an endless list of candidates, but for my purposes, I hold one up to the loupe: surfers.

Surfing has its disgusting element, and we are allowed to name it and carry on. The soulless prostitution of youth, dynamism, exotic locales and technology have given the world a skewed vision of surfing that makes me think the major surfing rag publishers could make a mint watching my dog lick his butt if they set their greedy little minds to it. In a blur of hot pink, indie rock soundtracks and overpaid chumps on exhaust spewing PWC’s, this version of surfing can exit stage left on its “supe-gnar” Most Forgettable Wave tour.

The real surfing is a closely guarded secret, but I’m going to let you in on it, because it can’t be bought. Hawaiians call the energy that manifests from the vitality of the ocean mother “manna” (not to be confused with the staple of the Israelites, though we could find encouraging parallels). Taoists refer to the necessity of building a home at ground level and sleeping near the earth in order to remain tightly connected to the matrix of earth energy that connects all beings. The term “grounded” often refers to a person who sees the world clearly and walks the invisible lines that define universal truths. “Salt of the earth” is another label that best applies to individuals who find pleasure in honesty, hard work, and the distinctive grace that lends itself to those convictions. These terms and analogies refer to the act of communion, either environmental or elemental.  For the sake of discussion, I’ll continue with the latter.

Speaking from experience, the human ability to be a conduit and to a certain degree, producer, for manna is cultivated over time. Some people are born with a deeper connection to the ocean, some have love affairs with it. On a trip to Central America four years ago, I preceded my friends by two weeks. By the time they arrived, I had graduated from a two-week seminary of sorts that had lended itself to a meditation of the beauty and rhythm of ocean energy. One day in particular stood out: epiphanies bounced around my chest like weightless globes of tropical light. The water felt like an immersion in amniotic fluid, the ocean a great heaving womb; cleansing, nourishing, and humbling all at once. Drops of salt water fell from my fingertips in slow motion as I paddled out to the lineup time after time. In past trips, I had seen the power of the ocean and found it to be terrible and fair. I had felt grown men die in my arms by misjudging her benevolence, taken pintails to my eye after going over the falls, felt every hair on my body stand up as great lurking shadows glided beneath me, been dashed upon the reef like an Old World sailor’s nightmare. After all of that, I had decided that however the ocean saw fit to fashion my demise, I’d be okay with it. And from that moment on, the ocean became a living, breathing, dynamic, geometric being. Spirits and linear physics came together to offer a realm that scientists and theologians have drifted resistingly towards for centuries. And from this experience sprung an energy that pulsed through my blood and flesh like a radiating, heaving supernova.

The tide pulses through every soul surfers blood. Their smiles are contagious because they are insurmountable testimony to the greatness of the universe. The secrets of infinity and chaos are embraced as the only laws that matter.  No shit. From this emerges a humility and recognition for all things that share the roots of creation and must float along the same matrices; the human is no greater than the fish is no greater than the wave and so on. While this experience is not exclusive to surfing, it’s the one I’m qualified to comment on.

Coming full circle: where this pursuit, this passion, defeats entropy is also where new doors are opened by a fascination for related tangents. The fragility of ecosytems are revealed, man’s dependance on the integrity of the whole becomes crushingly obvious, the linear becomes eternal in all directions, and communion lends itself to stewardship. In the end, this is why outdoor enthusiasts, not just surfers, but climbers, cyclists, kayakers, runners and hikers, skiers, and anyone who takes a minute for appreciation stumbles upon the old axiom, “Once a thing is known to be true, it is hard to ignore.” Taking the time to educate ourselves, reduce our impact on the environment, and support the companies and people that strive to find a sustainable balance is a privelege and an elightened act. The more time we spend outside, the more we know this to be true.