Yesterday I had the opportunity to surf for a couple of hours in between dropping off and picking up my youngest daughter at pre-kindergarten. Instead I chose to do bills and catch up on some home-chores. I figured so long as I was going to be Mr. Mom for a day I ought to act like it, prioritizing household responsibilities over personal thrill seeking.
There are so many opportunities to sit out life. To wander off to a movie or nap or paddle out for a surf. Of course this is an example of the complexity of life. The activities we use to check out of life are the very same ones we use to invigorate our lives. A good movie (or better yet, a good book) might twang our heart strings, playing us for an emotional fool. When it is over, we return to our daily life better off, more appreciative of the possibilities for our real-life relationships.
And who could deny that a weekend nap isn’t a life-changing activity?
Surfing too is complicated. Presently I want to surf as much as possible, regardless of the quality of the waves. I just want to get better. After a couple months of surfing I am able to usually get up on my feet when I manage to catch a small wave. It isn’t often and it ain’t pretty, but it’s progress.
Even so, already I’ve felt the tug to sit out. Not sit out of the water. But sit out, as in to use surfing as an unhealthy means to check out of life. This is hard to explain. I get this urge when hiking or writing or traveling. It’s the temptation to keep on going. The temptation lose touch with the world even while participating in an activity that is natural and lively.
After one month, I have reached a couple milestones in my attempts to learn to surf. I can no longer remember the exact number of times I’ve paddled out. Likely it has been between fifteen and twenty. Perhaps a few more.
My other accomplishment was a head full of staples. I cracked my noggin open on my board in the shallows near a beach in Encinitas, and it required five staples to patch up. Surfer friends had told me that it was only a matter of time before something on my body got sliced open. (Aside: staples aren’t as bad as stitches. Doesn’t seem like that should be the case, but it is. Staples good. Stitches bad, especially the gross skin tugging feeling when they’re removed.)
The injury kept me out of the water for a couple of weeks. What surprised me most was my eagerness to get back in and have another go at it. A couple times I seriously thought about ditching my doctor’s advice and paddling out with the staples still lodged in my head. I take this as positive, rather than foolish, motivation. Even though surfing is down right hard and it seems like it will take many more months to get the hang of it, the experience has been enjoyable. Sticking with it seems inevitable.
Initially I was making do with two things: a wetsuit and a surfboard. Surfing seemed like a pretty cool hobby for the 100 Thing Challenge guy. Yet I have realized that it will require a few more than just a couple of personal possessions to surf. My wetsuit feels like an electric blanket turned to high in the warmer summer waters. I’ve since bought a wetsuit jacket to wear with board shorts. I’ve added a second pair of board shorts to my clothing. I also have commandeered a storage bin and a water jug, to keep my car trunk from getting wet and to wash the ocean water out of my hair respectively. And I have soft racks for carrying my board on top of my car, though I’ve since learned that if I open a couple of the doors just right and turn the board on its side and push really hard, I can cram it into my car. I probably don’t technically need the racks.
At any rate, seven personal possessions are now devoted to surfing. That kind of seems like a lot to me. I get the sense that it wouldn’t be hard to double that in one weekend surf shop outing. For some reason, ten things seems like a good number for a hobby, even though I don’t really practice what I preach here. I have more than ten camping items. How many items does it take you to enjoy your favorite hobby?
A final thought about surfing and stuff. I am desiring a new surfboard already. Well sort of. I desire to work hard at getting better so that I can ride a smaller, more fun board. The idea of riding something more capable than my current board is one motivation. It’s not the only or the main thought that gets me back in the water each time. But it crosses my mind. And I have to admit that striving for a goal that includes a new personal possession has some appeal. It feels dangerous to me, though. Like it would be possible to start wanting the thing more than what the thing is for.
Recent Comments