Life-isms : Surf Lessons Part II - Kimi Ceridon
Description: The possibility of a sad and dramatic end to surf camp evaporated on the first day. I could officially say ‘I surfed.’ What could possibly be in store for the…
Date: 2013-09-06T07:23:04+00:00

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# Life-isms : Surf Lessons Part II

Posted on September 6, 2013 |

The possibility of a sad and dramatic end to surf camp evaporated on the first day. I could officially say ‘I surfed.’ What could possibly be in store for the next six days?

Our beach side hotel nailed that ‘surf hangout’ vibe. We had the most basic of amenities the place offered – a room that just accommodated a full-size bed, a two-drawer chest, a bathroom, a safe and an air conditioner. The polished concrete floors and non-existent decor were necessary considering the sand and salt-water that persistently made their way into the room every day. As promised, the one window looked out on the beach and we could hear the waves rolling in from our room, day and night. Little did I know that sound would be haunting by the end of the week. No chairs. No desks. No bad mass-produced art on the walls. No television. No phone docking station. No alarm clock. No phone.

For some people, such minimalist accommodations would have been a turn off. For me they were just right. I was in the middle of trying to get rid of brain clutter and I just didn’t need all the extras of a luxury resort muddying the waters. It also forced us to venture out of our room and interact with the rest of the world – or in this case, the rest of the surf camp. Although, I have to admit that in the future, I will opt for a balcony. Even if that option only offered the comfort of two, molded, plastic lawn chairs, a place to sit when you don’t want to interact with the rest of the world would have made the accommodations perfect.

Despite the leisurely atmosphere, the place ran a tight ship and had the routine of ‘surf camp’ nailed. By 6pm, a whiteboard inside the surf shop outlined the in-water surf lesson and afternoon surf ‘lecture’ times for the following day. I use the term ‘lecture’ loosely here because any relation it has with Harvard-esque professorial images isn’t fitting for surf lectures at Witch’s Rock Surf Camp. A lecture given by a guy who goes by ‘Flash’ are a slightly more lighthearted affair.

Flash was a man who clearly embraced the Costa Rican surfer lifestyle. Tall, tan and lean with a pile of distracting sun-faded curls on top of this head. Personally, I noticed the man had impressively long, flat feet that I could only surmised made for excellent board control. Flash’s first surf lecture focused on proper paddling and convened in the pool on day one

I am not going to even attempt to to get a life-ism out of proper paddling technique. That kind of metaphor is way too much of a long stretch to end up being anything but comical. However, the poolside paddling lesson offered up a piece of surfing advice that permeated the whole week. Every instructor, every video analysis, every piece of ‘good’ surfing advice offered from experts and lay people alike referenced it.

> Look up. Don’t look at the board. Don’t look down. Your body and your board goes where your eyes go.

Of course, this piece of advice seems obvious. When you are driving, don’t look at the steering wheel. Look up. When you are sailing, don’t look at the water in front of the boat. Don’t look at the deck. Look up. When you are running, don’t stare at your sneakers. Look up. When you are riding a bike, don’t look at the pedals. Look up. When you are playing soccer, don’t look at the grass. Look up. When your crossing the street, don’t look down at your smart phone. Look up. Seriously, stop looking at your smart phones. Look up. (But please finish reading my post).

In so many activities, looking down is a no-no, yet, everyone at surf camp was guilty of watching their board and the water around it closely.

Perhaps the board was going to disappear right out from under us. Maybe we wouldn’t be able to find the board beneath our feet despite the fact nearly our whole body was in contact with it. Maybe our feet couldn’t land on it even if it was 10-feet long and directly under us. Maybe we needed to not just feel our feet land, but also see them do it. Then, once we were up, maybe we thought we should watch the water go under the board. Maybe we thought if we watched the board and watched the water, they would converse with each other and conspire to keep us up. Or maybe we believed they were conspiring to bring us down and we needed to keep an eye on them.

Whatever the reason, across the board, the young, the old, the seasoned sportspeople, the non-so-athletic, the coordinated and the clumsy all looked down during those first days. Inevitably, those examining the artwork on their board or the flow of water under the rails were also rewarded with a shorter than anticipated ride. Certainly, many people got up and surfed while looking down. I was especially guilty of triumphantly celebrating the short ride that ended up with me wiping out face first and getting a mouthful of sea water. S#%t, a ride is a ride man, don’t knock it.

Looking down when paddling to catch a wave results in nosing down the board. This can be a painful, gurgling, washing-machine of a lesson made all the more painful if you had managed to gain enough speed to catch the wave. The back end of your board gets lifted by the breaking wave behind you as your eyes guide the nose end of your board directly into the water. If, instead, you catch the wave, get up and keep looking down the wipeout can take on many other shapes. There is the looking-down-and-falling-forward wipeout. The looking-down-and-nose-diving-your-board wipeout. The not-seeing-stuff-ahead-of-you wipeout. The I-just-could-not-stand-all-the-way-up-because-I-looked-at-the-board wipeout. All of which, I tried my hand at and succeeded in proving looking down is bad.

Over the last several years, I have been caught looking down while trying to catch a break in life. The result as been getting stuck obsessing over the idea of ‘getting ahead’. It has been a painful and overwhelming lesson to suddenly look up and realize all the work wasn’t getting me where I wanted to go. Suddenly, that supposed ‘good life’ I had been been obsessing over was grinding me into a burnout. There was the I-get-a-great-paycheck-but-middle-management-sucks burnout. There was the type-A-personality-over-acheiver burnout. There was the excelling-at-something-I-did-not-enjoy burnout. And, of course, the I-can-not-get-out-of-bed-I-am-so-demotivated burnout. All of which, I have tried.

However, during surf camp, there were also those rides where I had enough presence of mind to look up. The ones when I had sufficient faith that the board and the sea would would take me forward to where I looked. This is when I was rewarded with long, luxurious rides. The rides when I had enough control to even give a celebratory fist pump or double armed victory cheer while still on the board. These were the rides when I actually chose how to exit.

Obsessing over ‘getting ahead’ hasn’t been getting me ahead at all. It is time to look up, catch a ride and chose how to exit.

__

Check out Part I, Part III and Part IV of the “Life-isms : Surf Lessons” series (they don’t even have to be read in order!) and see the related post on Witch’s Rock Surf Camp’s Website.

### 3 Comments

- Perfect reminder of what we all should be doing both in the water and out. Thanks!
  Ps: WRSC kind of rocks, doesn’t it!

  Reply

  - Thanks for the comment. I agree, WRSC does kind of rock!

    Reply

- […] out Part I, Part II and Part III of the “Life-isms : Surf Lessons” series (they don’t even have to be […]

  Reply

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