Straight from the airport departure lounge into a boat and off across the top of the most insanely clear water I’ve ever seen. Ive spent years of my life traveling the world surfing but the Maldives takes the cake when it comes to ocean water clarity and colour. 

On the boat trip to our our island paradise a guy next to me said  “Have ya seen the swell forecast?” The tone in his voice indicated that he was not enjoying the first hour of his holiday. His question was an obvious setup for the slam-dunk comment he was dying to pin on me next. I was doomed to hear it regardless of my answer so I smiled and said “I have”. I thought maybe if he knows I know the same thing as him and yet sees we are noticeably having different experiences right now, maybe he would cheer up a little. 

Instead he stared at me with a blank, slightly bewildered look on his face and said 

“expensive f*#@ing snorkelling trip”. 

That was all he said, he put his head down and stared at his feet for another 40 minutes and then when we pulled up to a coconut grove and white sand beach with welcome drinks and smiling locals, he quickly disappeared with his wife, who followed him at a distance, as he sulked off into his bungalow. 

I can relate to his anguish, as most surf enthusiasts could. No waves on the forecast when you’ve booked your annual surf holiday can be a big blow. He had placed such incredibly tight restrictions on what this trip was all about that when it didn’t look like it was going to go to plan he could not adapt. Zero Adaptability, Zero happiness. This was his slogan for the trip. 

His gift to me in that moment was to inspire me to step up my game in this department. I wasn’t struggling but there was a part of me that had hoped for a good swell forecast too. So I made extra effort to let go of the plan to surf everyday and open myself to the adventure. Infinite possibilities when you have no appointments restricting your movement.  

“The universe has no restrictions. You place restrictions on the universe with your expectations”  

Deepak Chopra

A two wave hold down is terrifying! 

The first time I experienced this it absolutely rocked me. 

A double wave hold down is exactly what it sounds like, but what makes it much more dangerous than one wave is you are very rarely prepared for that second wave when it happens. One long hold down is no where near as terrifying as two. 

Usually after getting smashed around for a bit under water there is a moment when the turbulence subsides and you begin making your way to the top, its a moment of relief when you feel yourself approach the breathable strata of our planet. 

I remember blowing out all my air in anticipation of the big deep inhalation of fresh stuff that was only half a second away. A big underwater sigh of relief… Boom! Another thunderous cloud of water shut the gate on me and my much needed oxygen and off into a dark disorientating tumble I went once again. This time with no air in my lungs and a buildup of fatigue already in my muscles.

When I finally emerged and gasped for air, my body was in a state of paralysis and all I could do was get smashed again by the next few waves until the ocean had washed me far enough away from the impact zone and I could cling to my board and breathe. 

I thought I was going to die and it was a big wakeup call to the reality of playing at the junction between two worlds. 

I changed my approach from then on.

I now never assume that the watery world has finished with me until I emerge from the suds and begin sipping the sky. I focus on staying calm and simply enjoy the energy that is tossing me about. I stay in the present moment and with this awareness I can more effectively feel that exact moment when I should begin my ascent. By saving energy in this way I know that if I don’t make it all the way this time, I will still be ok. No more fighting against the flow which is a sure way to exhaust yourself.

We can all deal with multiple wave hold downs in life if we don’t waste our energy fighting to get to the surface the whole time. Sometimes the right way to go is down. Sometimes we need to stay down for a while and sometimes right when you think life has beaten you up enough and is about to let you loose, it decides to beat you up some more. You are exactly where you need to be, don’t panic. 

Nature is all loving, its sole purpose is to support evolution, yet we all seem to have the experience of being cast out. We find ourselves out beyond the ever loving arms of the mother in a place where we feel alone and deprived of the support we once felt when everything was “going well”.

It is well worth contemplating the idea that this is an impossibility. 

We are never alone, we are never beyond the universal trend of evolution. We are always, at all times being carried down stream by the river of love that flows through all of creation at all times.

When a loving parent sees dirty nails, matted hair and smelly clothes they lovingly prepare a bath. The child hears the bath and can, depending on their temperament and stage of development, interpret this sequence of events as a form of torture.

They kick and scream and fight against the flow of love that is supporting their health and happiness. Support of nature via the instrumentality of their mother who knows that this is the best thing for them. A good mother lovingly supports the needs, not wants of the child. A mother can be tough without compromising her love and care of her child.

10 minutes later after tears and tantrums the child is feeling fresh and renewed and possibly even deep gratitude for the love they feel as they snuggle in the arms of the person who was torturing them only minutes ago.

How often do we kick and scream as nature lovingly grooms us into a better version of ourself? 

Like a child who learns to love being washed, can we mature into reciprocating the love and support of nature? Can we surrender with devotion to the forces of evolution that know only one thing- Being how to take care of us and help us grow.

There was an old second hand book store in my home town of Newport. I was 20 years old and had just finished a biography of Jim Morrison. I’d scribbled down every influential book of Jims that was referenced in the biography and I entered the bookstore with high hopes. I stood inside the doorway staring down the various isles, scanning the piles of books that teetered on both sides of the walkway. Completely overwhelmed, but also deeply charmed with the feel of this mysterious space that had eluded me up until now. The well lite world outside seemed lame in comparison to the idea of disappearing inside forever. After letting me linger in the door for a few minutes, I heard “I know, every single book thats in here.. should we go for a walk?” From somewhere, barely visible behind the leaning towers of books that were piled on the floor and tabletops, a grey haired old woman emerged. She looked to be in her late 80s, wearing Lennon style reading glasses and radiating a warmth that made her stern wrinkled face look like a big beautiful smile. 

I showed her my list;  William Blake, William S. Burroughs, Carlos Castaneda, Allen Ginsberg, Aldous Huxley, James Joyce, Jack Kerouac and Friedrich Nietzsche to name a few. 

She found me nearly every title I wanted from each of the Authors and some extras from which I chose 9 books to take home. 

“great minds but lots of darkness, make sure you come back and let me know how you go with it all”   

Off I went, and over the next month or two I penetrated deep into a word I never knew existed. These books shaped my reality and the darkness was definitely noticeable. 

I went back and got more books, a few different titles of the same writers but also some new ones that weren’t inspired by Jim. My old friend at the bookstore helped lighten me up a little with her recommendations. 

I began to notice a power of the mind that I had been unaware of up until this experiment. My reality was literally being sculptured like a wet slab of clay spinning around on the pottery wheel. Using the ideas of these, some long dead, humans I would knead, punch, pinch and coil my mind into various shapes that all had a unique way of seeing the world. I was becoming what I was reading and it scared the hell out of me. 

Lucky for me, right before my freshly moulded mug was maxed out with the likes of ‘naked lunch’ and ‘beyond good and evil’ I had room for a Kerouac book titled ‘Dharma Bums’. This drew me out of my dark reading frenzy back into the light of the sun. It sent me off down the south coast of Australia, camping under the stars, hunting wilderness and adventure. The charismatic character named Japhy Ryder inspired a huge shift and city life began to lose its appeal in favour of solo time in nature. 

This all taught me a valuable lesson. To see my mind like my gut. “You are what you consume”. The things that “I” feed my mind shape “my” reality was the realisation at the time and It allowed me to find some discipline around what I exposed myself too, and when. 

“Im the master architect of this life, now what can I use to make my dream a reality”.

I had a day of running errands with the 3 boys, one of those “I deserve a medal” days, where not only did I run a smooth, fun ‘Daddy daycare’ but I also ticked off half the list of chores. I dropped Mia at her parents to have a rest day. I then went to our local herbal medicine store where I hung out for a good 30 minutes chatting about how to make my kids super humans and combat the damp wet weather. Then I got some groceries before taking the kids for a walk out on the break wall to check the surf. When we were about half way out the wall my son Ziggy said “dad I can see your bum” almost in sync with this comment I could also feel the breeze on my bare arse. I reached down and felt a huge gaping whole and the skin of my butt cheeks. I then remembered when I had ripped these shorts. Instead off getting tossed they somehow got back in the wardrobe and now as a result of this blunder, I was stranded on a peninsular of rock poking out into the pacific wearing a pair of arse-less chaps! 

“I CAN SEE YOUR BUTT” This time Ziggy was laughing his head off, My 3 year old came speeding over on his scooter, “let me see”. 

“is it bad zig? Can you see my whole bum?” I said.

 “hmm, not now but when you move you can” 

Mean while, Taro my 3 year old, is trying to poke me with a stick and laughing “daddies bum haha” 

The best bit about this whole ordeal is the humour that permeated my mind, I had a great laugh with the boys and walked the whole way back to the car with them wizzing around me on scooters, letting everyone know that their dads butt was showing. 

I would love to think that this reaction was standard character but the fact is, My younger, insecure, anxious self would have been rattled! I would have been tracking off into the past growing more embarrassed with every memory of my presentation to the public.

It’s nice to have small reminders of how much lighter my heart is now. I had a great day and my kids did too.

After more than a week of heavy rain and high humidity it seems that the destruction operators of nature have begun to scavenge a bunch of my possessions. The army of decomposers representing the kingdom of fungi have taken matters into their own hands. They have elected the things that need to go and permanently marked them. It seems that nature is helping me de clutter, it’s making the decisions for me. I cant say I’m happy about all the things they have chosen to destroy but its reminded me that anything I neglect is fair game. 

If we don’t actively clear out the the stuff in our lives that has lost relevance, then nature will do it for us. Nature is resourceful and doesn’t like stagnation, use it or lose it type deal. All we can do is thank the mould for reminding us to pay more attention to what we cherish and simply let go of what we don’t.  

My first trip to Hawaii was cataclysmic! I sidestepped all conventional logic and deviated from a well worn path that I had been on for 12 years. The one that leads from school out to the the real world of adulthood. I jumped on a plane and flew to Hawaii while the rest of my schoolyard friends sat exams for the HSC. Ludicrous decision some could say, but HSC wasn’t a part of my dream and Hawaii was. 

For the first time in my schooling life I could relate to the kids that felt stressed out about final exams. I never really thought much about my school performance but my performance in Hawaii, surfing in front of all my sponsors and child hood idols, I needed to nail that exam and I was shitting myself in the days leading up to it. 

I didn’t know if I would have the guts to take off on big waves, or even paddle out. Would I be too scared and fail the test? It was too late to go back to school and finish. I had made my decision and now I needed to make sure It was a good one. 

A few days after arriving on the island we were informed of an approaching swell, Ill never forget it. It was late in the evening and we all sat around our team manager to get a pep talk about what was coming. “all you new groms that are in Hawaii for the first time listen up. It sounds like a huge swell is going to hit tomorrow, this is what you need to know”

I absorbed every word, every gesture. All my senses were fixated on this big wave legend as he shared his wisdom. I listened liked my life depended on it. At the end of his talk he dialled a number on the phone, put it on speaker and held it up to the room… silence simmered in anticipation of what we would hear. An automated voice mechanically delivered exact details of the approaching swell. Our team leaders commentary to the report was “strap your nuts on boys! its going to be big! First light tomorrow… get some sleep” 

I couldn’t sleep at all and to make things worse, the sound of the ocean, which was about 100 meters away from our beach front shack, started turning up the volume. The waves of the new swell exploded in the darkness with such force that the whole house rattled! The windows shook and the floor quivered in response to the thunderous boom of each wave. Louder and louder with every passing hour. The energy was insane and my mind was ablaze with stories of the looming future. “Will I have what it takes to face what ever is out there?” For the first time in 12 long years I wished I was safe behind a desk at school. “What have I done?”

The next morning the waves were incredible! Huge clean lines of swell making contact with shallow reefs that shape them into the best looking tubes id ever seen, the childhood dream right there in front of me, the real life version of the waves I’d been drawing all over my school books for over a decade. 

We all waxed our boards and ran towards the ocean. I paddled out and watched heroes of mine get mindlessly tubed and for the first 30 minutes I didn’t even attempt to catch one. Then it happened, a wave broke slightly wide of the reef and everyone other than myself was out of position. I turned and paddled, stood up and dropped into a moving mountain. I was way too wide to be inside the barrel but it was there right behind me. The forceful exhalation of this beast of a wave almost blew me off the board and the thrill of it made me open my mouth and yell! I was high! My good friend was standing on the beach about to paddle out, he dropped his board put his hands in the air and screamed my name, I screamed back still riding the fading lump of ocean towards the channel. 

That particular ride was nothing special by Hawaii standards, in-fact I don’t think one of the 100 photographers on the beach even pointed their lens at it. But it was my slaying of the demon, I felt like a hero in my own epic story and I was alive with the feeling that I was exactly where I needed to be. On the battle field, conquering the only thing that gets in the way of a life well lived… fear.

My young sons nanny plays a game with the kids where she sets up a singing bowl on the ground, the kids then dance, hop, and jump around until she rings it. When the bowl begins to sing they quickly drop to the ground and start meditating. 

None of them have been taught what to do but they all intuitively assume some sort of position that indicates meditation has begun. They close their eyes and what they do with their minds is a complete mystery. Man I would love to know what they are thinking.

Looking at my 3 year olds face when he is “meditating” is priceless. He lifts his chin slightly, puckers his lips a little and seems to be looking up towards his brow with closed eyes. A soft sense of deep inner purpose on his angelic face. His legs straight out in front and crossed at the ankles, arms by his side, palms of his hands facing up. Thats his style! Its completely different to the other two boys playing, who have an equally unique approach. 

I think this innocent little game is incredibly powerful. 

It is allowing the boys to be introduced to a tool that they can now develop over a lifetime. Its done! Meditation isn’t a bazaar concept, its that thing they do for fun. When the time comes to learn a formal technique it wont be a big leap for these little legends, the neural pathways have been forged, the normalisation has begun. Its apart of their lives and thats a great thing. 

The bowl sings again and they spring into action. “Let the wild rumpus begin”.

Sitting in the ocean waiting for waves is a practice, that over a lifetime of surfing, eclipses the practice of actually riding waves.
The art of bobbing, the watery wilderness bobbathon, is the surfers unassuming practice of connection to nature. I honestly believe that it's the time spent floating around, half in the sky, half in the sea, that regardless of wave riding joy, delivers the good feels that bless the rest of your day.
Tuning into the flow of it all, paying your attention to every movement and surface fluctuation to make sure you're positioned in the right spot at the right time.
The desire for waves wakes you up to the dance of nature and teaches you to listen to the subtle language that whispers “move, now” and guides you to exactly where you're meant to be.

I think I was one of the worlds neediest surfers. Almost daily I would take my needy ass down to the seaside and throw myself in, wash all my neediness away with a paddle and splash. As I got better at surfing my neediness grew and the ocean wasn’t always sufficient in filling me up , I needed it to perform for me, “good waves please, c’mon I need a few good waves to fill the void, give them to me”. If the good waves weren’t on offer I would suffer, or worse if the good waves were on offer, but I couldn’t catch them, then I would really suffer. I believed that my happiness in life was something the ocean gave me, so I was desperate to get in there and receive its blessings. This is not a bad program at all, its actually great as far as addictions go. The only problem is when the oceans flat, you get injured or life in general gets between you and this pilgrimage. 

I was not nice to be around when I wasn’t able to surf. Everything would fall apart. Mia used to look at me and say “mate, go for a surf, you’re a mess” and off Id go all dark and foul and a few hours later a new man would arrive home. 

Things have changed a little over the years, since finding an eyes closed practice of meditation, I now fill up from within rather than searching for it outside. Im much less needy of good waves or the ocean in general. I love the ocean, and surfing its waves, probably love it more than ever before and I jump at every opportunity to be in it. However now, rather than dragging my putrid stressed out nervous system and begging for help from my beloved ocean, I take my inner fulfilment, my inner stoke and offer that into its healing waters. I still have my needy days and the ocean takes care of me wherever im at, but I’ve noticed that since I’ve started arriving at her door offering bags of fulfilment, rather than washed up, empty handed and desperate for help, our relationship has improved, she has started giving back much more than I ever thought possible. Its a love affair that keeps getting stronger. Nature reciprocates. Love in, love out. 

'“If you meditate and the Devil comes, make the Devil meditate”.

Gurdjieff

I think every single person who meditates can relate to the tendency to stop the practice at those times when we need it the most. When we find ourselves in the pressure cooker, when the pitch fork is right on our tail keeping us moving deeper and deeper into the searing flames. The first thing we think is “I don’t have time to meditate, the devils on my arse”. We keep moving, thinking “when im clear of this, and the skies have cleared and the daisies are in bloom, then i’ll meditate”.

It’s easy to meditate when everything is sweet and rosy. The path of a warrior is to meditate on the battle field of life. This has the power to turn the tide in our favour. By sitting in the fire, the flames of hell become the flames of purification and we can embrace the upgrade we’re receiving.

When its been a big day out in the world and its all come to an end, you slip into a warm soft nest of a bed and close your eyes..

In that syrupy sweet moment you detect it, you don’t want to believe it but you cant stop yourself from hearing it, the sound, it comes and goes but every time it comes its a bit louder, closer. You feel tension in your jaw, an itch in your bones, no no no you mutter. Next minute you’re up, lights on and you’re jumping around the room throwing things at the ceiling, slapping the walls, swiping the air. The sleeping baby is woken, crying, you’re hot, frustrated, the whole family’s awake and no-ones getting any rest until that teeny tiny mosquito has been liberated from its little prick of a body.

“If you think you are too small to make a difference, try sleeping with a mosquito.”

Dalai Lama

Mia and I will often talk about the difference either one of us can make to the entire family by simply meditating. One person shifting their state to be more harmonious, calm and tranquil ripples through the entire house and is felt by everyone. We all know well that this works at the other end of the scale, grumpy, moody and hot headed states have a huge impact on the dynamic in the house. 

We influence everyone that we make contact with in our day, even the subtlest shedding of our inner world has an effect and can set in motion a sequence of events. Like a little wind wave building into a huge swell we create change in ways we could never imagine. The trick is to get big things moving with minimal effort, small every day thoughts and actions that flow forth from us simply being our best selves. Mosquito power. 

When we decided to have our first baby, we had $2000 in our account, 1 way tickets to Bali and no foreseeable work. My pre-baby life checklist, that i’d crafted over years and years had no green ticks, basically none of my parent pre-requisites were accomplished. I didn’t have a house or a job which were the two big ones on my list. Without these two things checked off, I believed that having a baby would be a full blow out, a life ruiner, a catastrophe that would be impossible to recover from. This was some of the outdated conditioning that I was dealing with when a desire to become a dad bubbled up into my awareness. 

My mind was a battle field, deep desire vs old school beliefs. This was one of the greatest battles I’ve fought so far. Years of meditating had geared me up to face the enemy and I was able to fearlessly enter unknown terrain, a new map and no plan, innocently charging into battle to fight for the life I wanted to live. It’s one of my most memorable victories. The result being my first son Ziggy.

I’ve shared this story with a few people that I’ve introduced to meditation as an example of how a daily practice weakens our conditioning. These ancient techniques systematically sort out the moth-eaten thought patterns that stink up our minds, serving no purpose other than limitation. By shedding light on these structures of the mind they lose their power, allowing us to take action and cast them out. 

These check lists of what we think we can and can’t do sit in our psyche like outdated GPS systems, feeding us inaccurate information of the terrain. They don’t show any of the shortcuts, scenic routes or modern infrastructure, only old roads that have been there for an eternity. We need to update the map and realise the opportunity that surrounds us, the old roads are often dead ends, overgrown wastelands of rubble and decay. The new maps show us that there are many ways to get to where we want and allow us to explore life in a way we never thought possible. 

A baby arriving in my mind at that time in my life came as an unforeseen opportunity to change the direction my life was heading, there was resistance and fear but beneath both of these was courage to follow charm. It has lead me down the most magical road yet, the best thing that has ever happened to me.

Airports have a tendency to churn up latent stress, they whip up the creme de la creme of reactive behaviour in people; adult tantys, meltdowns and public demonstrations of our suffering. These glorified industrial store houses contain all the good tools to milk us of stress. Traffic, confusing signage, flashing computers , security screenings, staunch guards, crowds, queues, time delays, loud noises, expensive drinking water, contagious diseases.. its a solid stress factory, an industrial kitchen, the flaming ovens set to roast, unleashing all the flavours of human emotion.  

For this reason I found it to be a great place to practice a technique that I learnt from the late Ram Das. My last trip which involved big delays, missed flights and hours of sitting around in the airport, gifted me extensive opportunity to refine the technique and it completely transformed my experience. I actually found that with a slight tweak in my perception I was able to not only tolerate but actually enjoy my time in the airport. 

“When you go out into the woods, and you look at trees, you see all these different trees. And some of them are bent, and some of them are straight, and some of them are evergreens, and some of them are whatever. And you look at the tree and you allow it. You see why it is the way it is. You sort of understand that it didn’t get enough light, and so it turned that way. And you don’t get all emotional about it. You just allow it. You appreciate the tree.

The minute you get near humans, you lose all that. And you are constantly saying ‘You are too this, or I’m too this.’ That judgment mind comes in. And so I practice turning people into trees. Which means appreciating them just the way they are.”

I read this many years ago and loved it. Yet I never truely applied it as a practice. It is a powerful practice and I encourage you to give it a go. If you’ve got a trip to the airport soon you are in luck! They are rich with diversity, an exotic jungle, teeming. Take a seat and enjoy the show. The play and display of the epic story that is human life. 

If a farmer waters the root of the tree he is rewarded with fruit for his efforts. But he must not forget about watering the root while he enjoys eating the fruit.
- Maharishi Mahesh 

It’s an art, finding the perfect balance between rest and productivity. Ive been reminded of this lately. Jet lag and then back into life with 3 young children has got me beat. I have a tendency to stay up until around midnight catching up on work. I meditate after the kids are asleep which gives me a huge second wind to accomplish my tasks late into the evening but after a few days of 4-5 hours sleep the reality of sleep deprivation kicks into gear.  

There is no sleep-ins in this house; one of the 3 kids is always up in the dark squawking for food, and having our 10 month old, who is by far the worst sleeper of the 3, makes it certain that you never quite reach that deep restorative sleep zone. Sacrificing hours of sleep in the evening is not the most sustainable practice but I’m yet to find an alternative. Luckily my work load allows for a reprieve and some early nights but as its increasing lately with extra study I’m on the look out for where I can change things up and catch more zz’s 

Meditation is how I water the root, somedays I have to fight to make sure my tree gets its nourishment but if I didn’t fight for this time my fresh fruit stash would have been consumed a long time ago, mostly by the ravenous rat pack of mine.
The meditative state is not a replacement for horizontal sleep but its a lot more effective at achieving a deep hypo-metabolic state of rest. A study by Wallace and Kieth in 1972 found this state to be 2-5 deeper than deep sleep when it comes to the bodies ability to rest and rejuvenate. 

I water the root so my family can enjoy the fruit ;)

I was drying the kids off after a swim in the river when we heard a strange noise from behind us. Moments later a man pushing a shopping cart along the broken gravel road appeared.

He wore a black hoodie and black shorts, his face wasn’t visible. The trolley was full of what looked like all of his possessions. He started yelling out something. A shaky voice, distance and the sound of the rattling trolley made it difficult to hear what he said. He yelled again and started moving faster towards us. At this point I noticed myself feeling uneasy about his approach, I lifted my kids into the boot of the car and stood in front of them. “Sorry mate I couldn't hear what you said” He stopped and took his hoodie off, he had really scruffy hair and red eyes, I noticed that his whole body was shaking slightly. 

At this point I was already planning my escape. All my senses were feeding me information - The sound, the feel, the sight and the smell of him. All suggesting that this guy was no good.

I couldn’t really get moving too quick, so instead I engaged in conversation. 

Right away, when I surrendered to the fact that I couldn’t bail, I begun receiving different information on the level of the senses.

He said “Are you staying here for a while? I haven’t slept in days and I would like to have a quick rest. Can you watch my stuff for a while. It’s hard to find someone trustworthy and I can’t afford to lose my fishing rod or any of my gear again”.

He had saved up for a crab trap and was catching lobsters and mud crabs for a local restaurant, but some kids stole all his fishing gear and the new trap when he was sleeping. He was able to buy a new fishing rod but hasn’t been able to feel safe enough to sleep since being robbed.

At this stage in the conversation my guard had dropped and the kids began to feel more comfortable too. They asked him if he had caught any big fish. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his iPhone, the screen was cracked but it was a relatively new one. He then showed the kids a few picture of fish he had caught. 

He went on to tell me that he hadn’t been homeless for long and that until recently had been a head chef in a restaurant in Melbourne. He showed me a photo of himself with the rest of staff, he looked really happy in the photo and clean cut in comparison to his current state. 

“My sister died and I didn’t deal with it well, I’ve been mentally challenged for a few years now and feel more comfortable being homeless. I wear a hoodie to scare people off so I can be alone when I don’t feel like being around anyone. It works pretty well. Most people don’t want to come near me, especially when I have my trolley too.

It’s a strange life being homeless, kinda like another world that I’m slowly getting to know. I don’t think i’ll stay homeless, but right now it feels like the best way to heal.” 

This encounter made me think about how many times our senses deceive us by constructing a story based on previous experience. This false model of the world, created by our old experiences or beliefs, gets in the way of a genuine opportunity to commune with our fellow human beings.

photo. Lisa Sorgini

There was barely any waves, only fast moving lumps that when within 5 metres of the shore doubled in size and exploded on the hard sand. I watched young children come dawdling down the beach behind a surf school instructor, innocently unaware of the carnage that awaited them and thought to myself  “What is this instructor thinking, this shorey is going to annihilate them.” 

I remember a day from my childhood when the surf, in relation to our tiny bodies, was fairly large. There was a few of us nervously prepping for the challenge, psyched to give it a go. One of my friends was noticeably not sharing the same enthusiasm. His Dad was being quite forceful and pushy with the idea and eventually won the battle, convincing his son to give it a go like the rest of us. We started paddling out, we got smashed by a few whitewaters but made some decent ground, then a big set rolled in and we all copped it right on the head. We all got thrashed but my friend, who didn’t really want to come out in the first place copped it the worst. His board, which was a beaten, old, heavily glassed relic of a thing, was blasted from his hands and sent sky high. Like a honing missile locked onto the crown of his head, curled back on it self mid flight and boom, hit the mark! The nose of the board straight into his skull, splitting his scalp. Screams, blood and general panic.

He never surfed again. 

Until this morning, I honestly believed that the dad was responsible for the son never surfing again and if he hadn’t made him go out that day he might have continued. 

I told this story of my youth to Mia this morning when we where watching these kids ride lumps of ocean towards their inevitable demise.

Her response to it was, “sounds like that kid never really wanted to surf anyway, maybe that board to the head finally gave him the courage to tell his dad “NO” and he might have been genuinely happy with not surfing again.” 

For the first time since this situation occurred I saw it from a different perspective.

I realised that the information that I had received from the event, being, one bad experience can turn you (off) something good in life, was not the only way to see it. 

My personal love of surfing made this event seem like an absolute tragedy, but for my friend who quite possibly never loved it, it was liberation! He never had to endure another crappy surf experience again and could instead, pursue his true passions. 

“one bad experience can turn you (on) to something good in life”  

I knocked 2 teeth out of my face on a see-saw and never wasted my precious time on them again. If I hadn’t …. I probably wouldn’t have surfed as much. Now that would have been a tragedy. Thank you see-saw for knocking some sense into me!