13 January 2007

Cold Reception

Top photo, Indian Beach, Ecola Park. (Ed the electrician is the surfer paddling out.)
Bottom photo, Stiv-O's Bryan Bates 9'6" single fin and my Ewaliko 6'4" quad.

I attempted to go surfing yesterday. It was my second trip to the coast in two weeks without catching any waves. Sometimes I'm not sure why I waste a whole day, pumping god knows how much carbon monoxide into the air, in a futile effort to attempt to do something I used to be quite competent at. Ever since I moved away from the sea, my surfing ability has steadily decayed. I can now afford more than one board and a good wetsuit but none of that helps.
Yesterday, I at least paddled out, only to get thrashed around in the frozen water.
I used to invest so much in my weekly surf. I used to say to myself, as long as I get a few waves I can handle whatever is thrown at me for the following week. I now know how dangerous that was, especially this time of year when my mental state is as fickle as the surf.
I think I'm being tested but I'm not sure why. Perhaps someone or something is trying to teach me the meaning of privilage and humility. Perhaps I took it all too much for granted when it was on my doorstep evey day.

As much of a loss as the day was, the snow on the beach did provide a zen-like atmosphere (if there is such a thing), almost as if it was a giant Andy Goldsworthy piece.

Let it go...