We had a beautiful swell light up the coastline a couple weeks ago.
Unfortunately, I was out of the water for the better part of last
month due to a minor operation and trying my very best to follow
doctor's orders. During this time out of the water I was able to
reflect on the feelings that abound as a swell approaches our coast
and the nagging reality of not being able to surf. Well, that swell
passed and a new swell fills in as I am writing these words, so that
should give some retrospective insight into the fleeting dilemma that
I put my mind through so much turmoil trying to process.
Significant to many and trivial to others, waves are an intrinsic
part of my life. I feel like I am in some way interwoven into this
pattern or collage of pivotal moments where traveling swells find
their journey completed and man seeks to interact and ride these
final bursts of energy on the shores of our beautiful coast
line. When I know that I am going to be removed from this pattern it
makes me feel like I am missing a part of who I am.
As I saw the swell approaching, I convinced myself that I would be in
proper health to be able to go and surf as nothing had happened. Each
day that the swell grew closer I grew more aware of the fact that I
was not going to be surfing this swell at all. As I processed the
things that I was about to miss, I wondered also about how this same
feeling of dire urgency and inescapable scenarios are a part of
everyday life.
Moments that I think are so important to living and my existence may
actually be a beautiful thing, but completely unnecessary and
semi-hedonistic in its core. I am not saying that pleasure is wrong
or surfing is wrong, but the fact that I feel like I lost part of my
identity due to the incapacity to surf is a bit disturbing to me. I
guess the premise of this article is not to offer my answer, but to
dust off that ever important question of "Who am I?"
We are more
than our work, more that our pleasure, more than a task, duty, or
hobby. Aren't we?
I took pictures of the swell that day at our local beach break .
. . taking part in "who I am" from the outside.
