“Over thinking, over analyzing separates the body from the mind.
Withering my intuition, missing opportunities and I must
Feed my will to feel my moment drawing way outside the lines.”

I repeat the first line in my head and it reminds me that I need to stop over thinking, over analyzing, make a decision and stick with it.

In my struggle I have found the only two places I don’t over think are in the water and on the volleyball court. When I’m in the water, I don’t think. I feel. I react. I am driven by emotion and not thought.  I have also found that I am most driven by anger. Without anger my paddling is weaker, pop ups are slower and wave selection is safe. When I tap into my anger I paddle harder, pop up faster and attempt riskier take offs.

… over thinking? Perhaps. Am I really feeling versus thinking when it comes to matters of love, surfing, and life? Am I feeling versus thinking when on land and in the water…

I sit back in my chair and lean my head as far back as possible until I am looking out the window. I gaze at the deep blue sky and watch as the thin scattered, purely white clouds rapidly pass by.  I close my eyes for a moment and in my head I see myself surrounded by paperwork. Each stack of paper has a project or task associated with it. The stacks keep getting higher as the items on my to do list pop into my head. Soon I can only see a small circle of blue sky at the top of the papers.

In my head all I can say is breathe….. breathe….. breathe…..

It should be that easy right? Just breathe….

I flash back to a time I wiped out surfing. I went over the falls on an overhead wave. I went under the water, the wave broke on top of me and I was held under the water. As I lay there waiting for some sign as to which way was up and which way was down my body began to tell me to breathe.

That feeling that starts in your chest and travels up your throat into your mouth just begging you to open it slighly and take a breath. In my head I knew it wasn’t right, but my body seemed to think it was. As I lay there, caught in the middle of a battle between my body and brain I kept thinking relax…… relax…. relax….

Just as I did I saw the sunlight shining through the water. I stretched out my arms pulled the water down and propelled myself to the surface. My head emerged and in my head I heard breathe……..

However, I don’t mean quiet as in noiseless or without the constant chatter of computers, cell phones, iPods, or the droning toll of endless meetings. No, that is something I have come to enjoy and rally around … it’s inside my own head that the noise won’t stop.

I read somewhere that each person’s head, the skull and the resonating chamber it forms, is tuned to a specific note. If you hum long enough, and are really so inclined, you can figure out what tone your head is in … b flat, d minor, etc. So inside my head, is this tuning. And all the noise inside of it is tuned to that note … like the slow and low humming of a kitchen refrigerator going unnoticed in the daily kitchen of our lives. It’s often times a comforting tune, something I have grown accustomed to, not learned to, but “grown” accustomed to. Learning means some form of awareness during the process, no?

Back to my head and the noiseless days it goes through.

I have found that even at rest, my brain goes on these wandering journeys that my body has opted so vocally to be left out of. My brain wonders how it can surf more, how it could rig an entire mosquito netting system in the backyard so as to extend the living space area and still be bite-free. Recently, my brain figured out how to make a yummy snack using grape nuts, chunky peanut butter and a spoon. Mind you, I rarely complain. My helpless, and often times all too willing, body finds this all amusing. It figured out that it’s better than running up this hill that I live on for exercise. Let “Miss Smarty pants” think herself tired and get out of the way.

The problem is that the chamber orchestra in my head never stops. It literally keeps going, even when my body has checked out using a concoction of muscle relaxants and electrolyte go juice. About the only time Miss  Smarty-Pants gets a break is during surfing … when all thought stops and the body takes over. When those waves start rolling in, all thought is nicely set aside, and muscle memory and pure reactivity is put in its place.

I’m sure you have an activity that places you in the same state. Some use drugs, some use alcohol, some use adrenaline, but we all have this state. For most surfers, the quiet or soulful meditation that veils us as we trim down the line, cross-step into a dance with the waves, bottom-turn effortlessly … well … that’s one of the few moments where the chamber becomes silent, and we hear music from the ocean!

…

If you are not a regular at Cliffs, or one of the truly devoted dawn patrollers, you may not notice one thing about the public showers at the base of the pathway: the outer shower head leaks. Unless you make sure that the faucet is tightly wound down, the PVC shower head drips continuously. At times, it flows freely, dumping gallons of freshwater out into the ocean.

I often find myself tightening the shower knob on my way to and from surfing, ensuring that water is not wasted any more than it has to be.My first impulse was to put up a sign and graciously remind people to make sure that water is not wasted. “MAKE SURE YOU TIGHTEN THE FAUCETS” may get the point across. I opted not to do that – not because it would have been ineffective, but because I thought it would just blow away and cause more litter.

Yep. Trash, garbage, rubbish … everyday common litter.

You know what I mean. Litter. You may even remember all those nifty trash cans from the eighties with the words “Pitch In” on them. That was then first lady Nancy Reagan’s biggest campaign and contribution to the free world … pitch in. They produced over one million of those slogan emblazoned trash cans and related promotional materials, in an attempt to awaken the public consciousness about the evils of littering.

To this day, I find cigarette butts, beer bottles, styrofoam cooler pieces (yes, it’s true!), and other related garbage while I walk the beaches of Diamond Head. I had gotten into the habit of picking up whatever garbage was within my reach as I walk to and from surfing, thoughtfully placing it in the giant trash can at the base of the path, next to the showers.

Now, I don’t go way out of my way to pick up trash at Diamond Head … I just clean up the areas that are within my reach as I walk. I make it a habit to walk varying paths though, so as to broaden my respective pathway. I do what I can, when I can, as I can. It has become somewhat a part of my morning surf ritual.

What’s the link here? Signs don’t work in reaching the public consciousness. It doesn’t touch on their ability to be mindful. And in any respect, I like being able to do my part on a daily basis. So I tighten the faucet when it needs to be tightened, and I pick up the trash when I can.

I am, in effect, the sign. A living, breathing, surfing sign.

As I paddled into the warm water in a t-shirt and surf shorts (unlike Bondi in Oz, no wettie required here!), I recalled how my hands felt as it knifed through the freezing water in Bondi Beach. With much respect to Sydney and Brisbane, and all the countless surf spots in the Gold Coast that we have been blessed to surf, Hawaii is indeed one of the best places to surf … and it is home.

It should not take much for all of us to do our parts and clean & maintain our own little parts of this island, and the wonders it holds. With over 1.2 million people in Hawaii, imagine what would happen if we only took care of the area 10 feet around each and everyone of us everywhere we go.

Just a thought from just a surfer.

…

Even as the rain poured mercilessly on my board and I while we walked down the path to the beach, the slight glimmer of sunshine gave me hope. Afterall, this WAS Diamond Head — we regulars often find great waves on the windiest and crappiest of days. This was going to be one of those days. A fellow surfer even hooted at me to go get ‘em as I turned the corner. He, I noticed, was dry though!

And so, my fellow surfers, what had started out to be an ever-so-optimistic-session turned out to be a two hour paddle out to the RIGHT as I struggled to get to the lineup (WAS there even one?). It was just as choppy and windy as it looked, without any sign of the mystical Diamond Head session that usually made itself known on days like these. Not today. The striking thing was that there were at least 5 other people out there in the water, I’m assuming, praying for that mystical session as well. Frustrated and tired from endlessly paddling to the right, I cursed the waves and made my way in. Dejected. I mumbled in a barely audible voice “Well, that was not worth it at all.”

On cue, as if waiting for me to say just that, a Honu (Green Turtle or Chelonia mydas) popped his ever so peaceful head directly in front of my face … right out of the water. A giant smile replaced whatever exhausted expression I had on my face, and I knew that all was well. All was forgiven, and it was indeed all worth the paddle out there. It is funny how I am reminded of the things that MUST be important in life. It often arrives as quirky and unexpected reminders that I cannot ever get too big in my own perception, nor too self-centered in my expectations. A Honu I know reminded me of that!

And just to place an exclamation point at the end of this lesson, fellow surfers, someone I just met told me that a friend’s life was saved by surfing. I was so awe struck by this statement that I forgot to pursue the topic further. Surfing saves lives … I would like to hear or read that particular person’s story one of these days … it will serve as a true affirmation as to why surfing is truly life changing.

And that is true. Surfing, and the beauty that it holds, grabs you by the hand and transforms your perspective on this world of ours. It makes you see green turtles, and it makes you see beauty in a life that you may have given up on!

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