I am in Surf City California, also known as Huntington Beach. It is sunny, apparently always sunny, hot, like in the 80s F (late 20s C back home) and beautiful. The usual day says my cousin who I am visiting, though it’s a hotter around this time of year she adds.

I left Calgary on Saturday, October 1 and it was overcast, raining, cool, and someone even mentioned in Starbucks that there could be that s word coming in certain parts…. snow. So I was happy to board the plane to Orange Country, California where the weather was a tad warmer and brighter.

Today I went to Huntington Beach Pier and watched the surfers for a long time. I was fascinated by how they would wait calmly with the other surfers in the waters, their bellies on the boards, paddling with their forearms forward, and reading the waters to figure out when the next wave would come. They weren’t waiting for the small waves, they rode easily over those with their boards. They were hoping for the biggest and would wait for those to ride.

At the right moment, they would go right into the wave, get upright on their boards and ride them with everything they had. It seemed effortless for them, a dance of sorts. I could almost feel their exhilaration and happiness when they would ride the waves, steering their boards in and out of them, so they could make the most of the wave and experience.

And then when the wave was over, many would dive off into the water off their boards, attached still to their leg by a chord, and resurface, ready to wait for the next wave.

I was memorized by this, amazed how they managed to get upright on the boards easily in the middle of the crashing wave, ride it for all its worth, like they were squeezing a half lemon tightly for as much juice they could get out of it.

I wondered if they lived their lives like how they surfed because it seems like a pretty wild and wonderful way to be. To know that big waves are coming, to look forward to them, wait for the biggest, go right into them, land upright and make the most of them, jump off, and start again.

In our society, it seems like many do the opposite. We pretend that the waves are not coming, we are scared of them, we go for the smallest waves in case the biggest might be too much, we try to avoid them when they do come, and when they overtake us, play with us, roll us around, take our breaths way, we run from them, scared about them coming at us again.

The surfer way seems full of excitement, being in control but also knowing the power of nature and never really knowing what will happen so letting go and letting it be, feeling the exhilaration of being on the wave, and making the most of it while it lasts, and then going back for seconds.

The other way seems plagued with denial, fear, being a victim to the wave, and trying to control what we can not. I understand this mode as I have been lost in it many times, but I continue to reach more for the surfer mode literally and physically. It’s on my list to do this year now after seeing the surfers. I want to learn how to surf!

You may think that surfing is for the young, stronger, more nimble bodies, and that you need a lot of experience. Some of this true and not. Who says, who sets the rules? I would have never have done the many things I have done in my life if I listened to those external and internal voices that criticize and scare me from acting.

I was in my 40s when I went to chef school. I felt embarrassed, scared, anxious but I went anyway. I felt the same way during school, but I persisted. I felt the same way afterwards, but I marched on. One step a at a time I thought. I was proud and happy working toward one of my dreams, and I realized that all the positive and negative emotions are part of the journey so we can’t hang on to one more than the other, namely fear.

I am 54 years old, in pretty good shape but not a fitness buff or a surfer. However, I am a strong swimmer, love the water, and I have the drive to try surfing. So, why not? That’s what happened with chef school and look at what happened…

I love the quote from Marianne Williamson from A Return to Love and had it hanging on my bulletin board for a long time to remind me. In this time of transition, it reminds me again…

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, ‘Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?”

Remember to hang on dearly to who and what reminds you that you are brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous, and happy surfing where ever you may be!

Love, Caroline