A Surfing Life
To surf.
A deep longing and ache to my true lasting love. The one that has captured my heart. The endless pursuit my heart yearns for. My lasting and long-suffering love I will chase till death due us part.
I miss waking up to see my board rack. Seeing each of my boards, with their unique features, dings, rails, and wax pattern. Choosing one to be my daily mistress for the day. To cultivate a relationship with it to connect with the ocean. To ride together through the natural energy of the Earth focused within the mystery of breaking ocean waves. An intimate connection deep in my soul. My board becoming one with me.
My board, myself, and the mysterious holy sea. Partnering with my board in a daily adventure discovering what mood and season the ocean chooses to wake up in. Whether a chaotic mess of crushing energy, or maddening peaceful flatness. The rare days of overwhelming perfection being the hope and glory of my fleeting and futile addiction. To have all else wiped away as I am entranced into the euphoria of being engulfed by the sea. A state that will call me no matter where I am.
Oh how my soul longs for this. I miss and long for a surfing life. To cultivate a deep lasting relationship with the sea. To ride the Earth’s natural energy as it transfers from the wind to the sea to the crashing waves along a reef where I paddle. To dance and paint upon the blank canvas it graciously gives to me.
I receive what the sea generously gives. With open hands and a grateful heart. The euphoric anticipation and connection the moment sea water melts my anxiety from my soul. I long for this.
