How to Surf
The drive to Nazare, in the north of Portugal, had been filled with anticipation.
With each mile, images of towering waves filled my mind, replaying scenes from the famed "100 foot wave" documentary. Nazare is not just another beach. It is the stage for the largest surf waves in the world, the place where surfers from every corner rushed to at a moment's notice, hungry to face the ocean's challenge.
Parking along the cliff, my heart raced as I prepared to witness these waves. Yet, as my eyes met the horizon, they found a different picture. The vast ocean, known for its roaring waves, lay silent and undisturbed, as flat as a sheet of glass. The world seemed to stand still, waiting for a breath, a sign, anything.
Disappointment washed over me.
My excitement of witnessing the power and chaos of nature was met with nothing but calmness. As I stood there, the calmness on the outside began to infiltrate me on the inside. The gentle swish of the waves, the soft chirping of distant birds, and the warm sun on my face created a serene tableau.
The world is a mirror. It’s what someone once said to me that has stuck with me.
The still ocean before me mirrored my own recent days. Where a few weeks ago I experienced turbulent emotions and racing thoughts, I no longer did at that moment. There's a rhythm to life. Much like the ocean, there are moments of fury and moments of peace.
Embracing the calm, I took in the vastness, the serenity, and the quiet whispers of nature. Nazare had offered me a different gift that day, a lesson in finding beauty in stillness, in the quiet moments between the storms. And as I walked along the shore, the gentle lull of the ocean sang a lullaby, echoing the calm within.
Watching the surferless ocean, I was reminded of my first solo vacation. It was at the age of thirty and I spontaneously went to Costa Rica for a week. After checking myself into a yoga hotel, i.e. a hotel with an all-you-can-yoga studio attached to it and vegetarian meals provided, my roommate encouraged me to join him for a surfing lesson. I had no intention of going to surf however I said yes.
I remember being so focused on standing up on the board that I kept falling. And each fall hurt, a reminder to not try so hard. It was only when I relaxed and let the waves guide me that I was able to stand. This taught me a valuable lesson about going with the flow, both in surfing and in life.
Standing at the cliff in Nazare last weekend, enjoying the warm soft breeze on my face, I closed my eyes for a moment. I naturally began to meditate, standing still, and was reminded of when I was first learning to meditate ten years ago.
I was told to imagine my mind as a still lake, but all I could see were waves of thoughts. It was only when I stopped trying to control the waves and just observed them that I found a sense of calm.
Then what came to mind as I continued my beach walk in Nazare was a moment when I was leading my business through a challenging period. We had just lost a major client unexpectedly that represented a disproportionate share of revenue. I felt blindsided.
The more I tried to control the situation, the more chaotic it seemed to become. I was unnecessarily worrying about other clients, in unhelpful ways to my team, and taking the feedback from the one client who was no longer a client personally.
It was only when I took a step back and reflected on the situation that I realized the chaos was not in the business, but in my mind. As I started to calm my mind, I was able to see the situation more clearly, and respond to the situation instead of reacting based on my impulses.
My mind is big and beautiful, like the ocean.
My thoughts are still and turbulent, like the waves.
I get to surf the thoughts of my mind whenever I choose to. I can sit still for a moment, sit back and quietly observe.
Where I drove to Nazare that day hoping to see what was going on outside of me, I ended up getting to see what was going on inside of me. And this was far more relevant and valuable.
And that is how I learned how to surf.
