I am sharing a story about Jesus, joy, and time. (Five years ago) I am on a surf trip to the Outer Banks with some close friends, and for the first time since I began this “non-productive, non-depleting pursuit” I am connecting to the flow of what a wave is already doing that I am paddling into. This has taken some time to arrive at, and it is lasting no more than 3 or 4 seconds (in linear time), I think, but I am experiencing in a very different way right here and now.
Life is really long, slow, detailed, extended…In the moments before this moment I am calling ‘here,’ I was unbalanced, awkward, feeble, struggling, and tired from all the trying, from all the dig-dig-digging in the water I was doing all day. But now it is all so slow; this extension of moments. And here I am (and there I go, in a way). I won’t forget this.
A lump in the ocean approaches. Can you see what I am seeing?
I have been waiting for this. I see a kinetic mound of Creation rising to meet me out of the vastness of the sea. Three friends are here with me at Kitty Hawk at this late hour on this spring day, and this peak is coming to see me.
How far has it come to meet me here? How shall I respond? I spin my feet under the water, grab my rail and twist around to see the shore, lie on my belly, chin humbly planted to waxy deck. I am paddling as hard as I can, so why I am I moving backwards? As gravity takes over I leap to my feet and stand erect on the plank below, and, then it happens. Here I am, locked in…in trim. I am here. There I go…no, I’m still here. Balance…Harmony…Awareness…Joy. I am present, and every bit of minutia is meaningful. I can hear the hoots and hollers of my friends, but it’s slow, muffled. I can see Chris paddling back out. Yes, there he is, waving madly at me, making noises. What is he yelling about? Seems like he has a good view of what’s happening. This is so slow. What is going on with the sound right now? There is a foam-ball immediately behind me, making all kinds of racket hitting the glassy shallows, so why can’t I hear it? All the hoots are dying out, like white noise.
pit…
pat…
pit-pit……
pit-pat…
Pit-pat-pat……
That’s all I hear, this delicate, still, small, lapping flutter. My board is planing across the growing, banking face of this little wave, and all I can hear is this lapping. I am moving forward but I am still. I am here right now. It is that good. It’s ending now in a way.
I’ve been told that a wave in the ocean is no more than pure energy expressing itself through that particular medium (water). When it breaks it’s just the final expression of what it’s been moving towards from its fetch thousands of miles away. Once initiated wind, it happens relentlessly over the surface of the ocean for weeks on end. Ironically according to Wikipedia, “There is little actual forward motion of individual water particles in a wave, despite the large amount of energy it may carry forward.”
I’m really glad my friends got a picture of the scene:
I really loved this story. You’re a great story teller. If you have the time, you should write more! It’s encouraging, it’s real, and you are a real authority (specifically on this topic). Thanks for sharing. (I also loved the pictures you attached!)