I went out early yesterday before the rain became steady and hard and caught myself a couple of hours of solo surfing. For over two hours I was the only surfer that I saw actually in the water. It was super windy and the water was rough as hell which made it difficult to catch waves, but when I did mange to grab one, the ride was bliss. As I sat trying to balance on my board between sets, the chop and wind constantly trying to flip me over, I saw groves of people stopping and looking my way for awhile, presumably wondering what the "idiot" in the water was trying to do. The only peril that existed was in their own perspectives, and it made me feel hugely alive to be out in the swirl and torment of the day's deteriorating weather, and each wave I caught seemed to ordain me its king. Eventually the rain became so intense that I couldn't see well enough to do much, so I caught one last magic ride all the way into the sand and let its power pummel me a bit and roll me up by the break water. I was cold down to my marrow, and the wind kept turning my board and pushing me towards the ocean, but I eventually made the climb up the rocks through the stingingly pure rain. I got to my car and couldn't really get dry, so I threw on my clothes as best I could with wet body and numb hands thwarting every attempt I made at doing it quickly, and finally climbed into the sanctuary of my car and its heater.

I sat there for a few minutes and watched the rain and wind pattern my windows with little rivers and clear sheets, and I felt the power of the wind rock my car again and again as if taunting me to get back out and face the challenge, as if I hadn't finished its test. Gazing through the rain and wind I saw an ocean alive, powerful and raw, eternally patient, and forgivingly unforgiving. I felt small and humbled, vastly insignificant yet happy, and for the flash of one moment out of all the moments that have come and those still to come, I got it, the "thing", maybe the answer we all seek, I'm not sure. It was there, suspended in my mind like some perfect and golden idea I once knew but have long since forgotten. Sitting here I can only attempt to capture its essence, and this attempt at paraphrasing something so grand seems at best to be a disservice of high magnitude, and yet here it is in my own feeble words that will surely fall well short of their mark: Nothing is ever over, but instead goes on and on. That's it.

I've been getting into Pearl Jam recently, ever since I found out that Eddie Vedder is a passionate surfer. I've always liked this group, and I have deep respect for what Eddie attempted back in the 90's concerning the monopoly of Ticketmaster and the price of concert tickets (too bad he received virtually no support from anyone else!). But now when I listen to the music, I hear the waves and the stoke, and I get it at a different level than before.

So I'll admit it openly here for the first time...I'm a surfing addict...but at least it's a pure addiction, one based on some eternal pursuit I can't quite verbalize, one that's lost to the masses yet waiting for each of us. I'm thinking I'll pay closer attention to the "moments" that make up my days, listen to good music, surf when I can, enjoy my family and friends, and let the rest of this crazy life take care of itself...The following poem seems to fit well within the context of this, my most recent rant...

Oh Great Spirit whose voice in the winds I hear,
And whose breath gives life to all the world, Hear me.
Before you I come, one of your many children.
Small and weak am I.
Your strength and wisdom I need.
Make me walk in beauty.
Make my heart respect all you have made.
My ears to hear your voice.
Make me wise that I may know all you have taught my people.
The lessons you have hidden in every rock.
I seek strength, but not to be superior to my brothers.
Make me able to fight my greatest enemy, myself.
Make me ready to stand before you with clean and straight eyes.
When Life fades, as the fading sunset, may our spirits stand before you without shame.
Iron Eyes Cody (Cree-Cherokee Indian).