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5am. “Heartbeats,” by Jose Gonzalez welcomes a new day into my life. I open my eyes. Inhale. Exhale. Breathe in. Breathe out. My heart rate is increasing. The brain scans all the tasks in my to do list and tries to define a reason why I start to feel a bit anxious. I have my Ah ha moment and realize why I feel this way. Together with a bunch of people we are off to a surf trip. Surfing awaits.
I love surfing because I love the ocean. I like watching the infinite motion of nature, feeling the cosmic love relationships between the Earth and the Moon.
I love surfing also because I find it a great metaphor for life. Those metaphors are boundless like the ocean. People, opportunities, experiences and days are like waves. Some are worth riding, some are worth chasing, some are worth passing. Some bring you incredible joy, while others hit you hard, leaving you speechless. Some days waves may not come at all and that’s okay. But there is always that magic wave worth waiting for, taking you unexpectedly somewhere new. Perhaps to a place of endless freedom, summer or an unknown rapture. Waves of divine nature. Those are the waves that make you feel alive, connected and feel at one with the Universe. Those are memories that last within us.
This story is full of metaphors and it is about that magic connection with the ocean that I gained again with the help of surfing. There will be no attractive photos of girls in bikinis or cool photos of me riding the waves, but you will find something more than that. I will openly share with you something that we are at times afraid to talk about.
My recent surf camp in Bali inspired me to put it all together. It wasn’t just a regular fun surf trip in the middle of the Indian ocean. It turned out to be a personal theory and practice kit on letting go of past experiences, mistakes, expectations and learning how to start fresh and trust yourself again.
So let’s start from the beginning.
Water is my element. I am inspired by the water element that surrounds us and lives within us. Have you never been surprised by a weird and beautiful coincidence that a human body consists of 70% water while the ocean covers 70% of the Earth?
I was born inland in Russia, far away from the ocean. Thus, we explored lakes and rivers in summer, caught raindrops by mouth and ate snow and icicles during winter. Regular trips to the seaside that my parents organized were great. That’s how we were introduced to the “all inclusive” trend in Turkey and dipped ourselves in the Mediterranean waters. Years later we were introduced to the Atlantic Ocean’s scenery. My dad also helped me explore the water element while doing various water related activities with me. We built sand castles on the beaches of Cote d’-Azur, jumped off cliffs in Majorca, went out in the ocean with a company of dolphins, explored the deep Red Sea in Egypt and tried to bodysurf while catching waves in California.
During my teenage years I became a part of a skateboarder’s crew and was exposed to the action sports subculture. There was no such thing as surfing in Russia at that time. But all my friends and I were intrigued by the unknown and foreign nature of surfing, and this is how The Endless Summer movie replaced Pretty Woman, Save the Last Dance, and Never Been Kissed videotapes on my shelf. At the age of 15 I set myself a new dream goal. I wanted to live by the ocean, closer to the waves, so I could learn more about the art of surfing.
My generous and gorgeous sister organized a dream trip for both of us to celebrate my 20th birthday in Bali. That’s when I tried surfing for the first time and “kind of learned how to stand” on a surfboard. I took a few classes at the Rip Curl Surf School in Kuta. I was given the longest softtop possible, a helmet, boardshorts, and a few instructions on the beach. We painted our faces with sunscreen and went into the ocean. I remember how local instructors were escorting us to the lineup by dragging students by a leash, pushing through the whitewater of waves and then pushing onto the waves themselves, yelling something like “Get up, jump on board now.” They provided us with a full on surfing GPS service. It was easy, fun and relaxing. And that’s what I thought surfing was about. I lost my surf virginity with a sense of absolute comfort and security and let my partner do all the hard work, leaving me with a sense of wave riding accomplishment and loving the ocean even more. It was a truly positive experience.
During later trips to Bali I received a different taste of surfing. It came with rough ocean conditions and stressful wipeouts, but I was treated irresponsibly as a student. My level of surfing, my fears and my doubts were not taken into account or taken seriously. My surfing agony started when a surf instructor picked up perfect surf conditions for himself and took us to ride unsafe waves. They were big (for me), fast and furious. And I wasn’t ready to surf them, I didn’t want to surf them, which I never told him about. However the waves seemed fun for my surf instructor, who caught them one after another. He didn’t seem to care too much about my progress and surfing experience. And then a massive clash happened. A big set of waves came along and I found myself alone in the water, fighting against the ocean whitewater and, more importantly, fighting against myself. Stubbornly trying to get through that washing machine no matter what, to prove to the instructor that I could catch and ride a wave. And that wave was full of mixed feelings: hate, horror and a slither of joy. When I hit the shore my surf instructor gave me a cunning look and a few claps saying “I think you can be a surfer now, as you can be in the water on your own…You passed the test by the ocean. Go and surf now.” I am sure for some people this may sound like inspiring and uplifting feedback. But for me, at that point in time, it wasn’t at all. They sound like a requiem for a dream. I didn’t even want to think about surfing again. I was full of despair, fear and anger.
But despite that growing fear I wanted to stay committed to my childhood dream. I didn’t realize the nature of my fear, I couldn’t understand that symptoms of that fear were not physical but psychological. I didn’t realize at the time that I needed to simply look inward to save myself from that spiraling fear, rather than chasing waves externally and always trying to wear the mask of “I’m strong, I can do it!”
Clinging to that intention, I faced new waves over and over again. There were warm waves in Bali, Lombok, Sri Lanka and cold waves in Portugal that I explored as a part of amazing surf camp that brought me together with so many cool people. But everywhere I went I felt strongly dissatisfied with myself in terms of surfing. No matter how many waves I caught I never felt a gram of joy or a pride within myself. New surf spots, channels felt harder to get through, waves felt bigger. I felt blind and deaf to everything that surrounded me. All I could relate to was that familiar breath of my old friend, Fear. Once I noticed this, anxiety paralyzed my body, making my movement robotic and pushing me away from the water.
In 2011 I moved to Auckland, New Zealand, approaching my 15-year old dream even closer than ever. I found myself surrounded by two magic coastlines. There were rough, unpredictable, stormy along with raw beaches on the West Coast, and magic and peaceful white sand beaches on the East Coast. The variety was impressive but so scary to me. I got lost in that current of opportunity. A few surf trips ended up being in the whitewater without feeling proud of myself. Watching surfers ride the tubes, surfing four meter waves and realizing that I can’t do it (and if I can’t do it why am I doing it in general?) really pushed me away from all that excitement. I just felt out of my league and didn’t know where I could belong.
A desire for mutual connection and sense of belonging was growing in me. I asked the Universe to let me meet an inspiring surf soul that I could learn from and be inspired by. Months later, life brought me together with a Russian surf girl and ex ballerina, Vika Kershis, aka Keshka. Keshka who would revive my surfing life later this year. We had a few fun adventures, roadies and great times together in New Zealand. Her attitude took my breath away. Her driving force was freedom and a desire to push against a natural comfort zone. She decided herself what waves she could ride, what conditions, temperature of water she was comfortable in. She was calm and excited about surfing all the time. My interpretation was different. I had no motivation to surf. On the contrary, I had become comfortable not surfing. I could come up with multiple reasons why I shouldn’t get into the water. I overprotected myself with the help of fear. There was no room for self-acceptance and self love. I lived in a kingdom where I’d accepted being paralyzed with destructive and negative thoughts – “Who do you think you are? A surf girl?.. Ha. Surf isn’t for you. Look at Vika, how graceful, strong she is. Do you think you could compete with her…Nah, forget about it. You must quit and never try it again! Stop it. Stop it now.”
This sort of talk made me question why I ever started to surf in the first place. Suddenly, I remembered myself sitting in front of the TV watching The Endless Summer when I was 15. I was hooked by the very idea of experiencing an interaction with the ocean. It was like a divine balance. I wanted to experience how it would feel to ride a wave and let a wave ride you. I didn’t think of proving anything to anybody that I could do it, I didn’t want to become a pro surfer or move to Hawaii. I simply wanted to try surfing and have zero expectations of myself.
But somehow this attitude has changed within me over the years. I started to question if I actually genuinely loved surfing. Do I surf for my own sense of joy or do I surf to meet expectations of others? Those questions kept on playing up on my mind. But I wasn’t ready to answer them or see the truth. I wasn’t ready to see that my greatest enemy was myself, that self who always wanted to be the best, the strongest who couldn’t allow herself to fail and not be perfect. So eventually that “best ideal self” wiped me out from the world of surfing and made me so certain that surfing wasn’t my thing. So I stopped. I stopped even though I was so close to my dream. I was close to the most beautiful coastlines in New Zealand. I was surrounded by a variety of uncrowded surf spots and I made the decision to stop surfing.
Finishing surfing didn’t affect my desire to find comfort and harmony within my spirit. I wanted to live freely and be driven by love, not fear. Through the lens of life epiphanies and personal development I was recently hit by the biggest, scariest, the most powerful and painful wave in my life. I faced my true self and saw my raw truth, which didn’t have a pretty face. But this time I decided not to ignore that side. I did the opposite. I managed to closely look through all scars, bleeding wounds, pink flaws and blue weaknesses, deep pain and suppressed anger. I started to embrace and love my imperfections. I found courage to find time to sit still and let myself connect the dots of all parts of me. And it was my bittersweet revolution.
And then it happened to me. The biggest swell of my lifetime came upon me and burst into a perfect set of waves that I was about to ride. They were waves of sorrow, anger, loneliness, revolution, isolation, grief, self-acceptance, gratitude, kindness and finally, waves of love.
Going through an intense emotional detox, I felt like spending more and more time with my new self and getting away from my routine in Auckland. A romantic tropical getaway originally planned for two of us turned into a solo trip to Bali. I still thank you, dear Dan, for letting me be there on my own so I could experience it with all my activated senses and shades of blue, so I could start a new romance with myself and find harmony and peace within. Interestingly enough, Keshka now lives and runs amazing surf camps in Bali and happened to organize her last camp on the same dates as my trip. What a lovely and well-timed coincidence. Now I could finally turn a page in my surfing life, start fresh and learn from early beginners days.
You think it is pretty easy, isn’t it? For a girl who got used to placing high expectations on herself it looked like a mission impossible. My mind played the following tunes on repeat: “Why do you want to start from scratch? Why can’t you surf well? You have tried surfing in so many countries, live in New Zealand for over 5 years and get in a good physical shape…who are you kidding?” And after so many years of silence my real voice replied in a very calm and confident manner. “No, darling. You don’t owe anything to anybody. You don’t have to meet any expectations. All you have to do is have fun and enjoy the moment no matter what you are doing, whether you want to surf or not.”
So that’s how I allowed myself to start fresh and learn the basics of surfing all over again, just because it felt right and that’s what I wanted to do. Perfect timing. Perfect teacher. Perfect Indo waves. And it’s that rare case when the word “perfect” doesn’t do any harm. Besides, Vika and I both agreed that we shouldn’t expect anything from each other. This helped me to relax and made most of our surf lessons and conversations. I was okay to hear that my posture on a surfboard that I was taught almost 10 years ago wasn’t right. It might hurt my ego a bit, but I let it go easily. I was keen to practice a new posture and do 30 or so jumps on the sand before getting into the water. I was okay with a soft board and practicing my jumps in the whitewater and having fun whilst doing it. I could do it for sometime. It felt good, easy and safe. But Vika didn’t want to waste my time, as she knew my potential and had faith in me. She wanted me to feel connected to the world of surfing again. Feeling that support from a friend was deeply inspiring. And so it happened. We came to Balangan at the right time when the waves were pumping, paddled through the channel and enjoyed the line up view. Best seats in the house. Watching head high waves curling in and surfers riding in a small tube. As conditions were getting rougher and rougher, Vika said that it was better to catch a wave to get back to the shore. She left me with no time for overthinking, hesitation or anything else. She could read the fear in my eyes. I could hear that fear that was holding me back for so many years too. It was my time to break free. So we did it. I started to paddle and then Vika pushed me into the wave. It was truly magical. It was fast, fun, long and gentle at the same time. I screamed, laughed and yelled all the way along the wave. I was in a divine balance. I felt the Universe was smiling in me. I was saluting to that feeling of breaking free. I was saluting to myself and my possibilities. I was saluting and cheering everyone around me. I felt like I’d won the biggest title in my life. I’d gained my freedom back.
Vika surrounded me with the magic spell at other surf spots where I felt supported by someone who cared about my progress. Her regular inspirational speech started like this: “You need to catch that wave that makes you push against your comfort zone, Yana! Paddle hard and stand up. You don’t know what you are capable of.” It took me sometime to realize that it was true and that I should trust myself more. It took some time to let go of past unpleasant memories that I had with other instructors and other people. It took some time to truly, deeply, madly trust my friend, my guru, my surf girl and my teacher. But when it all happened I felt that deep shift that brought a different interpretation of reality. My level of confidence was pumping in parallel with a level of enjoyment from the surrounding scenery. Fish and corals under your feet, birds up in the sky, coconut palms on the beach, early sun that gently touches your skin and an anticipation of a new wave friend coming your way. I listened to the wave and to its natural flow that allowed me to be a part of that dance. And it was beautiful.
If that swell didn’t happen to me, if that storm didn’t rise from inside out, I would not be able to feel alive again and restart my surfing affair. I would also say “NO” to all other things I simply loved doing and living through like singing, performing and writing. I was putting the brakes on all of these creative parts because none of these activities led me to an overwhelmingly positive outcome, financial success or prosperity. That high expectation of myself “to be the best from the West” and please everyone with what I do, say and how I operate was my sort of a constructed craft. It was a self-made thought-provoked jail where I kept myself locked for a long time. The big swell came and set me free.
5am. A different but still favorite song wakes me up in the mornings now. It’s “The Fall” by Rhye, a duo from California. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. My breathing is calm and peaceful. I could still hear my heartbeat as I am excited about a new day. I could hear Nina Simone singing through my soul. “It’s a new day, it’s a new dawn and I am feeling good.” I wake up with a pleasant smile leaving that crawling fear in the past. I am eventually falling in love with surfing and with my life all over again. While accepting all lost and forgotten pieces of my puzzle, I gained a true connection with the ocean. I realized that everything is temporary and unpredictable. Similar to waves, days, seasons, emotions and moods, people and events come in play and change one another. They move in a constant flow that we have no control or power over. But we are free to choose how to respond. Thus, self acceptance, self love, and self control are those key elements in our bible that let us surf through life with ease and grace, feeling a divine balance and connection.
