Deep in thought. Photo: Myles McGuinness
I haven’t written much lately, for business or pleasure. Nor have I surfed. A combination of stubborn depression and even more stubborn migraine headaches have led me to keep to myself for the most part. Making me a poor friend, terrible employee, and bad surfer. I turned my phone off, closed the shades and lay in the dark for hours wallowing in pain.
I lost my job; no one wants a flakey employee. Lost contact with most of my friends; they tend to like it when you answer the phone. And lost focus on my career path, neglecting my computer for a cold pillowcase and a dark room.
But here I am just now recovering from a weeklong headache that sent me to the doctor six days in a row. It was a miserable week, and just recovering from the drug cocktail I received each day was a horrid task. I didn’t even want to be in my own skin. These were some of the worst days of my life thus far.
Why do I complain?
What is the light without the dark?
No matter how bad last week was, surfing makes it all worthwhile. I don’t get to spend nearly the amount of time I wish I could in the waves, so it makes each session that much more valuable.
This morning was one of those beautiful days and I was reminded just how lucky I am. My skin pale from days indoors soaked up the California sunshine. The clear blue waves washed waist high on the sand, just the kind of day I needed. Nothing my tired, unused muscles couldn’t handle.
Two hours. That’s all my body could handle, and then I had to call it quits. Two hours in crystal clear water, no wind, no clouds, no crowds. One of those few and far between days we all score now and again, where all the elements combine to make a session memorable.
It was by no means a life shattering moment, my headaches weren’t magically cured, nor did I get the barrel of the day, not quite that special.
But special enough that it made me feel significant as a human being; to reflect on how good I have it to be able to run and jump into the ocean even when my other problems become too much.
What an escape it is. The weightless glide of sliding across an open wave face. There truly is nothing else quite like it. And for every pain free day I have I will chase that glide.
