Surfing

Did I mention that I've been learning how to surf? To be honest, I may almost need to put quote marks around the word surf, as I'm not sure what I've done out there can truly be considered surfing, but rather flirting with a very bad decision. Sure, some might suggest becoming a capable swimmer before lunging oneself out into the ocean tied to a board that may either deter or abet my drowning. I went under a couple times, but fortunately was well aware of this possibility and did not freak out. However, upon popping back up to the surface, I did take the board in the hip, which left me quite a war wound. I did take in quite a bit of sea water but this was because I couldn't stop smiling. Each time I trek back up the sand to my backpack full of [un]necessities, I love savoring in the moment where you realize you haven't thought about anything for the last few hours. Furthermore, and I can't speak for anyone else that's ever been out there, I'm surprised to realize that during that time, I actually revel in the lack of control I have, something which is usually of the utmost importance to me in every facet of life. I hope to stick with it, but because of my lack of a wetsuit and board of my own, my trips are at the whims and mercy of friends and their unreliable schedules.

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