(warning: drama mode)the truth is, i'm not particularly very good at it, but this
thing that my friends introduced me to makes me feel like nothing else.
i started surfing in 2005, before la union was as popular and crowded a destination as it is now, but still many years after my friends first got into it. i would probably be a third or even fourth generation model if surfers were marketed like ipods.
generally, i'm pretty resilient but many, many, many things have really started beating on my armor. sometimes, i really do feel there's nothing left for me on this planet, except for trying to take care of my internal organs so someone can make use of them when i can't anymore. and in between seriously considering if i have mononucleosis or, well, that thing that will put you in the 7th circle of dante's hell,
is the shining thought of paddling out towards the horizon.
everytime i catch a wave, life feels completely peaceful. i don't have a care in the world but for the speed of the water that's carrying me, the wind on my face, and the shore that's coming up to greet me. then i paddle back out, raise my upper body with every wave i meet, and crash down on the water with the board as my protector. there's nothing more exhilarating than maneuvering myself in a current that's always changing and deserves the utmost respect. the perfect marriage of man and mother earth.

and when the city, with all its unnecessary trappings and misplaced priorities, stag
gers me with a sense of profound futility, nothing jolts me awake quite like the thought of hopping on that bus and getting ready to greet the water. and i move on with a renewed sense of joy, looking forward to my next surfing trip.
the mighty, mighty water and what it can do to and with you, that's something to worry about, not the rules that the modern world dictates. money, sex, beauty, social image, i don't really care. what would hefty savings and "name" mean if i went through this life an empty shell--cooing over my next gadget or fashion purchase, or worrying too much about money that i've forgotten the richer gift of loving?
and when the story feels like it has gone on too long, has become too tiring, or is going around in circles, an ending seems the best solution. or i can just throw the book out.
and once more, i retain my tenuous hold on the tether to life for just one more ride, or even just one more wipeout. the water--it keeps moving me along :)
thanks, guys.