“The Best Surfer Out There Is The One Having The Most Fun.” ~ Phil Edwards

The trick is to ride the wave,
Fast, wide-open and
in deep Now-magic.
Free, burning fear for fuel
Generous, knowing there is always more where that came from.
Cresting, spray of liquid jewels hanging, shining in the sun and wind.
Flying down the wave in graceful slices.
Rolling, tumbling under, over
Breathless falling, floating into the deep dark beneath.
Rising, face breaks the surface
Laughing
Kneeling, standing
Riding again.
Sunset waits behind the horizon
But daylight begs us to swim
Out beyond
Where our feet can’t touch bottom.
Into the deep wild
Where the next wave can
sweep us higher,
Show us what else is possible
In this marvelous place.”
~ Jacob Nordby

Have you ever watched big wave surfing and come away from the experience thinking these guys must be a little bit crazy? I mean, who else would dive into freezing cold water in the wee hours of the morning so they could ride tsunami like waves besides a crazy person? And yet, in spite of this, I will admit to having had a fascination for one such crazy person whose greatest aspiration was to go to Hawaii so he could surf the "big ones". Years later, when I asked him what that was like, he simply quoted Buzzy Trent, a pioneer of big wave surfing who once said that waves are not measured in feet and inches, they are measured in increments of fear. For someone whose aggressive surfing style was often described as "a general storming Normandy", Trent's quote manages to conjure up the negotiation a surfer makes between the excitement of riding thirty-foot waves and the fear that comes along with it. On the surface, it might be tempting to relegate big wave surfing as just another thrill seeking adventure sport, but recently I've come to respect a certain philosophy about it that when applied on dry land can produce some interesting results.

Typically, when we think about surfing, we usually picture some hot-dogging stoner in a wet suit racing down a monster wave in a spray of sea foam and pounding surf. But the truth is surfers spend a lot of time just sitting in the water waiting for a wave. The patience this requires is what differentiates the beginner from an experienced surfer. Where an impatient surfer starts thinking he's wasting his time, wondering if he should give up for the day and go home, a more seasoned one takes the wider view, understanding that the experience itself is offering him something more that just practicing his technique.

Let's imagine for a moment we are a surfer sitting in the water waiting for a wave. What are we actually doing? Well, if we are approaching the experience in an "in the moment" kind of way, we are probably very aware of the rhythmic movement of the swells, the buoyancy of our bodies, and our visceral connection to nature. As we sense the mood of the ocean, watching the waves gradually becoming steeper and steeper, we will eventually see an opening. If we've timed it right, once we've paddled into position and the wave reaches us, we'll begin to feel the wave taking over and pushing us forward. In that instant, we are not necessarily controlling nature, but rather capitalizing on the flow and momentum of it. By being patient when we need to, by being aware of our surroundings, and by showing initiative when the moment is right, we will be able to position ourselves in what is known as the sweet spot.

Life can sometimes work the same way. Like a surfer sitting in the water waiting for an opening, my first wave came last week in the form of an introduction to someone who knew where I could get a refurbished laptop to replace my broken one. An energetic guy who was also the owner of his own print shop and what you might call a real go-getter, he asked me what kind of work I did giving me an opportunity to tell him I was a writer starting up my freelance career.

"You should come to our next networking meeting," he said. "We meet by Zoom every Thursday morning. All you need to do is put together a 45 second elevator pitch introducing yourself and what you do."

Suddenly, out of nowhere, I was facing my first thirty foot wave. I had no professional website ready. No online portfolio. The only thing I had at that moment was my enthusiasm and a very long to-do list. Where the chutzpah to accept his invitation came from, I have no idea. But before I could talk myself out of it, I paddled forward and attended a Zoom meeting with a group of small business owners where I introduced myself as a freelance writer.

Deciding not to overthink my situation, I wrote out a script with a brief description of the work I had done professionally as a writer, rehearsed it the night before a few times until I felt confident enough I'd be able to get through it without the jitters, and then went to bed. In the morning, with a strong cup of coffee, I attended the zoom meeting and waited my turn until I was introduced. When the moment was upon me, I found myself surfing down a thirty foot wave as if I had been doing this kind of thing for years. The words flowed, the excitement of the moment got my blood flowing and afterwards I ended up with three solid leads!

Like any sport, surfing has it's own set of core mechanics. Eliminating drag is one of them. To generate speed, you want to minimize the contact the bottom of your board has with the surface of the water. The best way to accomplish this is by gently carving back and forth, from rail to rail, as you cut laterally down what surfers call "the pipeline". The more nimble you are with your rail-to-rail maneuvers, the faster you will travel across the face of the wave. Theoretically, it sounds fairly straight forward. The trick is in the execution. Of course, if I was shamefully brazen about it, I might suggest, metaphorically speaking, that my rail to rail maneuvering had me flying down that thirty-foot wave faster than even I could’ve possibly imagined. But I'm actually too modest to say that aloud. In either case, after my experience last week, I’m beginning to wonder if those big wave surfers are really crazy after all.