The Whiplash, The Wave, The Wonder

“Holy f*** this got big”?

Was about all I had time to think as the wave broke and propelled me toward the shore. The trouble was I was a little late, so I’d been picked up as the wave crested and was now slammed back to the ocean below.

It took everything I had to hold on. No time to hear or feel the crunching and cracking that was likely occurring. There was only the rush. The sweet spot where risk and reality meet as waves and rider dance.

In truth, I’d given up hope. I’d headed to my beloved local beach, which just happens to be one of Cornwall’s best bodyboarding coves – perfect for yours truly who has not yet mastered the art of popping up on a surfboard but can certainly manage to get himself deep into waves he probably shouldn’t be paddling into without a lot more thought and consideration of rips and swell patterns – with no wetsuit and only a black Labrador and a vague hope of catching some white water if I was lucky.

But Rinsey Cove is a gift that keeps on giving. When she’s on she’s on. So while other beach breaks in the area were likely choppy and messy, every now and then Rinsey would unfurl set after set of beautiful ridable body boarding waves. But that was a while ago. Now it was getting choppy and less predictable, even if still serving up some glorious rides.

I lamented to the guy next to me in the water that I should have brought my wetsuit, because, warm as it is right now in Cornish waters, it was still too cold to stay out as long as I would have liked.

I’d caught a few waves but could feel my body beginning to shiver. Knowing that my core temperature would keep dropping for 20mins after exiting the water, I knew I didn’t have long. I also knew the wave was coming. The perfect symphony of raw power and timing that I hoped to harmonise with for the briefest of ecstatic moments. I’d seen glimpses, felt stirrings, sensed possibilities…

So I held on…I waited.

I thought I had it, but a gathering monster that threatened to break beautifully simply rolled right past me. And just as I was about to resign myself to a less-than-fun paddle back to shore I glanced back and saw what I assumed was the monster’s little brother trailing up behind.

“It might not be much, but at least it might be something,” I thought as I turned my board and began to paddle.

And you already know what happened next…

“Holy f*** this got big”

And as the monster’s dad spat me out, delirious upon the sand, far beyond the watchful eyes of my Labrador lifeguard.

But then comes the question…as I stand and the rush begins to subside like the tides waters I rolled in on…

“How much am I going to feel that in the morning…maybe even in the next 10 minutes?”

But as I sit and write, some 3hrs after the event, I can’t trace any lasting damage – though the morning will bear full witness to that possibility.

But I am left with a strange and delicious electricity coursing through my body, demanding that I squeeze and stretch and breathe and writhe to satisfy its urgent vitality.

And the clarity.

The clarity that happiness both the firework and the fuse…the acorn and the oak.

My rush, my dance with the Ocean’s wondrous monster lasted less than 8 seconds…but its effects last even now: a grounded sense of purpose, an evaporation of ADHD symptoms and a soul-deep gratitude for life and living.

You do not need to seek out monsters to dance with…that is just my way and the way of many others. What will never change is that if you want happiness that fills you like an overflowing flood, there is but one way: surrender.

Let the majesty of life live you.

Let the great Love fill you so completely that it knows only you and you know only it…and there,

Dance a while.

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