Balancing Energies

So much happening in this last month that I have been wanting to write about but not found the time for yet, I figured I better make time now and catch up.  This winter surf season has been one for the history books, with the El Nino fueled storms and subsequent swell spanning across the Pacific Ocean relentlessly bombing huge surf onto the reefs of the Hawai'ian Islands and marching solid lines into the West Coast of America, this will be a season surfers will remember forever, and become a benchmark for future seasons to be compared against.  My big wave tow in day was an amazing step along this journey, but there have been many more swells to follow.  

The day after the tow day was when the real force of the swell hit, probably the biggest day of surf that Hawai'i has seen in about a decade, and it was going off!  I witnessed some of the most amazingly big, perfect, and gnarly barrels I have ever seen with my own eyes.  I gave my best effort to paddle into some epic waves and am thankful to have caught a few perfect ones myself, but the barrels I saw a few friends get with the jet ski assistance were absolutely mind blowing. One of the best days of waves ever, complete sensory overload, from sunrise to sunset being tantalized by spitting barrels relentlessly, I was completely tapped out that night.  Even more epic dream sessions to follow as this swell declined, letting the other waves become manageable and allowing a full variety of waves to be surfed through the course of this swell event.  

About a week after the tow in day, my friend that towed me in psyched me up to paddle out into some of the biggest waves I have ever paddled out in, probably the second biggest paddle day of my life, but way nicer than the biggest day because unlike the rough and rugged nature of the waves that day, this day was as big and perfect as you could ever dream of waves being.  Not a drop of water out of place, just perfect huge peaks jacking up and running the length of the reef, with a friendly and mellow vibe between the few guys out, it was truly a magical day.  I borrowed a big wave board from my friend, so I was a little tentative to catch my first wave, not only because it was my first time back paddling into solid waves in a few years, but also because I had not ridden this board yet and had no idea how it would go, so I took my time watching a couple sets come through before I paddled into the thick of it.  My friend was heckling me from the zone, looking at me like "what are you doing in the channel?  you know you need to be over here to catch a wave, right?" and waving at me to paddle over where he was waiting under the ledge.  As I have mentioned before, my friend loves huge waves, so I wasn't completely sure whether he wanted me to catch a wave from where he was, or if he just wanted to see how I would handle getting caught inside by a macking clean up set, but after seeing him late drop a couple nuts ones, I figured I better get in there for a closer look.  I managed to pick off a couple of inside ones, too small of a board to compete for the bombs up at the top of the reef, but right on the ledge where the wave would stand up as it connected the inside for a solid drop and fun wall to race, super stoked!  Traded a couple of sets with my friend, stoked to have gotten back out into some solid waves and feeling comfortable with so much water moving around.  When we got in, I thanked him for hyping me up to go out there.  I know it is not that hectic once I get myself out into the mix and put myself in the lineup, but taking that initial move to go out there is always easier when you have a friend to join you on the journey.  

The next morning the swell had dropped a bit but was still solid, and my friend paddled out in the dark on his shortboard to get a couple late drops at first light.  On maybe his third wave or so, he took off late, ran into some chop at the bottom, and skipped out in the trough, falling on his side and breaking at least three ribs.  Falling on water.  Broken bones.  Heavy.  The most agony I have ever seen him in, for a guy I have never seen affected by anything, this looked like the most excruciating pain anyone could ever endure.  Drove him down to the the hospital in town to get x-rays but nothing you can really do for broken ribs except chill out and let them heal, shocker.  In the blink of an eye, done. Season over.  The best season ever, over.  So harsh I went into a sympathetic depression with him, hanging out for the next week and helping take care of whatever I could for him so he could just sit and chill and heal.  I didn't want to be coming home glowing from a hero session and describing epic waves I had ridden while he had been barely moving so no shooting pains would pierce his chest, so I just hung out and talked story, made some food, and provided support as best I could.  The universe was sending out so much positive energy in a relentless stream that it had to regroup and begin to balance the energies out.  

It kinda felt like eating really spicy salsa, where if you keep eating non-stop you just replace one extreme experience with another in such succession that they all begin to blend together and have less individual impact, that is until you stop to take a breath and it all catches up quick, bringing you abruptly back to reality.  I had been in such a state of delirium surrounded by the perfection of this season that I got caught up thinking that maybe it could really just be like this forever, and life would be this grand adventure where the waves were phenomenal all of the time.  Everyday would dawn another gloriously stellar light wind sunny dream of swell lines marching in from the horizon, with the toughest decision of the day being deciding where to surf because everywhere is firing.  

But the highs have to get balanced by the lows.  Otherwise, how would we even be able to appreciate the blessings?  If everyday was perfect, sunny, and firing, how special would it be?  Can something still be special when it becomes the standard?  If everyday was perfect, it would no longer be considered perfect, it would be common.  We need the rugged stormy onshore flat days to appreciate how truly magical the perfect days are, when all of the elements do align, the right size swell coming from the right direction, with the right winds speed coming from the right direction, with the right tide and the sun shining, all culminating into one beautiful session, where we are in the right spot for the right wave, and draw the right line with the right timing, all elements synergizing to manifest a spiritual experience and deeper connection with the universal energy we are all one with.  Such an incredible alignment of the elements cannot slide by unappreciated just because they happen to be in temporary abundance.  

It felt like the energy had shifted, maybe not disappeared, but just vibrating at a different frequency now.  There have still been all time sessions and great waves to be ridden, but lately they have been smaller and more manageable, allowing for a different approach to be explored than just that of putting your head down and going hard in waves of consequence, and it felt nice to just relax and have fun in friendly waves again.  The weather shifted, and the trade winds began to return, replacing the ridiculously sunny and amazing days with some mountain showers, and some stormy days showed up bringing in colder north winds, starting to actually feel like winter over here finally.  It seemed like the season had hit its peak, and while there will still be waves to ride, and many more fun days ahead, the concentrated energy focused into the last couple months had finally begun to dissipate, reestablishing a sense of normalcy and familiarity to everyday life.  A mandatory balancing of the energies, so that we can find equilibrium once again.  

Taking time to soak it all in

My Biggest Wave Ever

You know it.  I know it.  Everybody knows it.  It's everywhere.  It's inescapable.  It's coming.  Every forecast from every perspective says the swell is going to be HUGE.  Guaranteed, for sure, get ready, time to do this, it's on.  

I know everything I have done in my life up to this moment has been in preparation for this event.  I know I have the necessary skill, talent, preparation, and perspective.  I know I can do this, it is what I have dedicated my life to being ready for, this exact situation, this specific challenge.

So why am I still scared?  Well, maybe not scared, I choose to not give my energy to fear, after all it is a four letter f-word, just like fall, and I have taken those words out of my vocabulary.

But maybe anxious is a better way to say it.  I am excited, but still wary, uncertain.  It is the unknowing that is killing me.  My lack of experience in huge surf feels like a branding I wear across my face, a scarlet letter I cannot hide.  Sure I have surfed some solid waves compared to most surfers that grew up in Southern California, thanks to over a decade of winters spent in Hawai'i, but in the real world, the world with real waves, SoCal isn't even on the map.  We are hidden on the lee side of a continent, in the bight behind Point Conception, tucked in its shadow, and sheltered by the scattered offshore islands, with a big continental shelf extending out into the sea ahead of us, a scenario that prevents almost all major swell from being able to reach our shoreline with any significance.  Very different from places like Western Australia, South Africa, or islands dotting the Pacific, like the one I am on right now. These places, like this Pacific Island chain here in Hawai'i, have open ocean swells marching straight onto the shallow reefs, unobstructed, with the full force of the world's largest ocean behind them.  Water is moving over here, a lot of it, focusing into huge chunks of ocean that surfers here call waves.  Waves that look considerably different than what I grew up calling waves.

But, nonetheless, they are still waves.  Liquid manifestations of universal energy.  So I know I can adapt, evolve, and expand my perspective to a greater magnitude, in order to become one with the flow, and coexist within these waves, ones that exist with exponentially larger size, power, and energy.  

My good friend over here is one of the gnarliest humans I know.  He grew up surfing Hawai'ian waves, and thinks the surf is flat anytime it is below double overhead.  He is one of those guys that could almost be considered a madman, due to his perspective on waves being so warped compared to most of society, that very few can even relate to him.  After all, insanity is defined due to its divergence from the status quo, and the waves he lives for most people would consider a death wish.  But his confidence and comfort in heavy surf has helped me incredibly over the course of my life, to realize that is an available perspective to have in these types of conditions.  Grace under pressure.

So when he saw the weather charts and swell forecasts, he gave me the heads up.  "It's going to be on, so you better be ready."  He and his firefighter/lifeguard tow parter like to tow surf the biggest waves they can find, and when he "invited" me to ride a couple waves as this swell filled in, I didn't really have any option but going.  

Sleeping was a little tough last night, just because of the anticipation. So much hype on the swell, so many thoughts running through my head, a little overwhelming.  Mid morning the buoy starts to jump, solid start and steadily increasing.  Taking our time cruising around, having some lunch and acting like it is just any other day, I know that keeping my mind quiet is the only path.  We get down to the beach and there are waves, but they are by no means huge, maybe almost double overhead, so we sit and watch the ocean for a good hour plus.  

And it starts building.  First the outer reefs start to show signs of life, with big swell lines pulsing up from out of the depths, marching in toward shore.  The sets on the reef start to build, becoming slowly but surely bigger and more consistent.  Then the outer reefs start to feather, the crest of the swells beginning to feel bottom and crumble up top, with rings of whitewater highlighting the horizon.  And when the first real 8' Hawai'ian wave hits the reef, it's on.  Time to get the ski prepped and in the water.  

The two of them head out into the ocean and start to score some incredible waves.  Big, heavy, solid waves, but still incredible, linking up amazing rides.  I wait on the shore as they trade off, staying focused on the ocean, getting in sync with the sets, feeling the rhythm of the ocean and getting in tune with its timing.  Now the outer reefs are breaking heavily, much bigger and much more often, and the really outer reefs are starting to awaken.  It is getting BIG.  The anticipation is tough, with all of the projections my mind can create about how gnarly these slabs are, how heavy the water is, and the deadly thrashing that exists in the impact zone.  Staying calm (I know is the path).  Excited but relaxed (is what I'm telling myself).  Totally confident (I believe myself completely, right?).  But this is the only way.  And I know it.  

It's all about perspective.  Power of the mind.  Cool, calm, and confident, knowing everything is coming together just as it is meant to, and I am just this one piece in the cosmic puzzle, fitting right in place. Even as the swell continues to build, the outer reefs keep bombing away with huge barrels, and the reef begins to look like a hectic cauldron of rough water, all is good.  I am living in the now, and right now all is good.  Even when I get out there, it is all going to be good, and if at any point that is not the situation, I will deal with it in the now, not here projecting it into the future.  When I see someone pull into a heavy section and disappear, I assume they got axed, and am amazed when they pop out of the end section to finish with one last hook in the pocket.  Then when they hop on the ski and it heads in instead of back out, I know I am ready.  

They come in to pick me up, and we are straight back out there, for my first big wave tow-in session ever.  My friends said my eyes were as big as golf balls popping out of my head, and as much as they are champion hecklers, I honestly was a bit blown away at the magnitude of the surf.  

My first wave is surreal.  Easily as big as the biggest wave I had ever previously ridden, that I paddled into about 5 years ago at this same spot.  Taking the whip from the ski and letting go of the rope was intense, committing myself, knowing I'm going.  My friend's tow board is epic, super solid and holds in really well, while still being responsive and flying with tons of speed across the face.  Just getting to feel it out on this big liquid canvas is amazing, so incredible!  I kick out in the channel and they come to pick me up, ready to head back up the reef for another one.  My adrenaline is pumping, but I'm still just cruising.  It really is just like surfing has always been, pick the right line and surf your wave.  

It's all about perspective, realizing the same patterns I know extended to a grander scale, and harnessing the similarities.  That is where the comfort is found, the familiarity to make everything flow as I have envisioned.  All of the projections of what might happen in the future don't exist.  I am here.  Now.  There is nothing else.  There never has been, it is only illusion.  My focus on the present moment makes everything simple.  While the lulls occur, we sit out the back and talk like we do while watching the surf from shore, and when the sets come and waves appear, we get focused and make the most out of the opportunities nature provides.  

My next two waves are a little funky and don't line up like I had hoped, so we head back out for another one.  Then it comes.  I knew it would.  It was inevitable.  A bomb set starts stacking solid black lines charging in toward us.  I know it's on.  And all of the anticipation and expectation doesn't even register, because it doesn't exist.  Only right here, right now. Grab the rope.  Get up on my feet.  And go.

My friend is racing the ski along the crest of the swell and points to his left, to this gurgle of water sucking off of the shelf and starting to stand up, and I know this is it.  I am here.  Now.  I let go of the rope, and trim back left to get over the ledge and ahead of the gurgle.  I drop straight in, letting the wave face stand up in front of me, watching it continue to grow and grow, higher and higher.  Then I start to think, "I might want to begin heading down the line now," and watch the wave continue to grow, bigger and bigger.  I set my line and begin streaking across the face of this chunk of ocean, watching the wall line up for 100 yards ahead of me.  I wondered what was going on behind me, and took a peek back at the bowl, instantly freaked out by the amount of rugged water contained in the lip detonating behind me, and told myself not to do that again.  Just keep my focus on the wave face in front of me, pick my line, and make my wave.  Toward the end of the big section, the wave slowed down for a second, and let me draw a big sweeping carve off the top of the face back down toward the trough, burning off some of my speed and setting me up for the end section, where I connected through kicking out once again into the channel.  Peaking on adrenaline, so stoked when my friends came to pick me up on the ski, beaming like the light of the sun.  Easily the biggest wave I have ever surfed in my life.  

As the sun began to set, we packed up the ski and gear, and I realized how significant this experience was for me.  Not just for my surfing goals, but for my life goals.  All of the conjecture and contemplation, anticipation and projection, mind games and brain warps, none of it mattered when it really mattered.  In the now.  Living every moment to its fullest involves maintaining your awareness, your ability to remain present and focused on the current situation.  The only way to know how a situation will unfold is to put yourself right in the middle of it, to test your strength and your character, by living it.  I believe we will always find that actually doing something is much easier than thinking about doing something, creating obstacles and boundaries that only exist as illusions in our mind, and have no bearing in reality.  Take the opportunity to take up the challenges that you believe to be the toughest, for it is in these situations where we can find the greatest learning and personal growth.  Free your mind, live in the now, and become the person you know you already are.  

Making our way in

Photo by Steve Knox