I Dub Thee...

Last Sunday it was sunny, the water was warm, the waves were perfect and all was right with the world (actually, all is always right with the world, it's just that we're often unable to see it that way).

Because I surf much better when I've done yoga earlier in the day, or have gone for a run before getting in the water, I brought my sneakers to the beach. I ran for about fifteen minutes and then grabbed my board. The 310 Surf Chics were there and though the water was crowded, the vibe was friendly.

The great thing about being a beginner surfer is the opportunity for so many "firsts" and "bests." Well, Sunday was the first time I caught a wave, dropped in, stood up and rode it all the way to shore. So it was also the best wave I ever caught. By far. It was a sweet little thing, but I was enjoying it so much that I was almost on the sand when I realized I was gonna have to jump off at some point.

So I fell forward. Or backward. I can't remember. Either way, I knew I was falling the way you're not supposed to fall when you jump off your board in shallow water. I knew, because I'd recently eavesdropped on a surf lesson for beginners (see above photo) and I heard the instructor say something about it.

When I fell, I ended up under less than a foot of water. But before I could get up, I felt a hard rap on the head. It was my board. It's foam, so it wasn't that bad, but still...it made an impact. The board rung me like a bell and to get those vibrations out of my body, I found myself "shaking it off."  It was the only way to recover from being so "stunned" and I experienced first-hand that the body needs to discharge energy in order to recover from a trauma.

Afterwards, I considered why this had happened.

From a Mechanical point of view, I knew that, obviously, I had fallen in the wrong direction. But then I looked at it Mythologically. And laughed.

Neptune, King of the Ocean, had seen my victorious wave. And when it was done, he gently tapped me on the head with my board and dubbed me...a Surfer.

Surfing As Spiritual Practice

Back in August, I met a blogger named Rachelle Mee Chapman at the infamous faith-bloggers workshop that gave me so much food for thought. She has a website called MagpieGirl.com and has been running a series about women and their "right" spiritual practice. I was honored when she asked me to participate and write a guest post for her site.

It posted today and here is the link: http://www.magpie-girl.com/

Enjoy MagpieGirl.

The Point. Everybody's Got One.

It's not that I haven't tried to write this blog in the last ten days. I have. I've written drafts. And deleted them. And written more drafts.

It's not that there hasn't been anything to write about in the last ten days. On Sunday, I surfed. Standing up. The whole time. With a smiley face in the sky. Again. And last night I went to an event for surfers in  Santa Monica at the O'Neill store and ate pizza and drank a beer. Then I stopped at a bookstore and found a book I'd been seeking - for five dollars.

Things have happened. I've had insights. For instance, according to this book, "The Life You Were Meant to Live," my life path numbers are 30/3.  And last night someone suggested I create a Kickstart fund * so that I could travel into outer space and write about it.

And yet my whole life (including surfing, parenting, love, spirituality) has lately been suffused by a sensation of awkwardness that makes everything come out wrong. Or not wrong but.... as if I'm not getting to the point.

Despite the fact that there is one. Somewhere. Wanting to come out, but buried beneath layers upon layers of...other stuff.

Sometimes there's no wind and there are no waves. There may be brilliant sunshine, but the water is like glass. And all there is to do is be prepared, be patient and wait for your wave.

*I'd use Indiegogo.com instead (shameless plug for my friend Adam).

Just Do It

I am reading a book I love and I'm not even done with it, but I have to recommend it. Right now. It's called "Just Do It" and it's by Doug Brown, a journalist for the Denver Post.


Basically, apropos of nothing, one day Doug and his wife Annie decide to have sex for 100 days and see what happens. Doug is such a sweet person, so in love with his wife, and so willing to give up his ratty old sweatpants in favor of cuter pajamas, that the book is absolutely irresistible. The fact that he's a very funny writer doesn't hurt at all, either. I keep laughing out loud and all day Ashton's been asking me "what's funny?" The whole thing is, really. And compelling, too.

It's reminding me that there's value in committing to anything - sex, surfing, meditation, love - regardless of whether you ""feel" like doing "it" or not. In fact, feelings are totally overrated. Though, as a poetic-artsy-mystic-shamanic type, I rely on feelings as the basis of my self-expression, they've also been the basis of my undoing more times than I like. Therein lies the rub of my life - and the topic of potentially countless other blog entries.

But all that aside, pick up this book. It's hilarious and sweet and I've never read anyone write about sex in quite this way. And I've read a lot about sex. Cause I'm a Scorpio. Meow!

Smack Down

There's been a lot to write about lately: which, perversely, has made me hesitant to write at all. After all, how could I get it all down?

• There was the day when it was sunny and hot in Culver City, but surprisingly cool and foggy at the beach.
• There was the day when I figured out I needed to lean more weight on my front leg in order to balance better on my board.  
• And then the day when I remembered  to stay in a squat in order to keep my center of gravity low. 
• After catching my best wave ever, I turned around and saw, in the distance, the smiley face on a bright yellow para-sail looking straight at me.
• There have been countless skull-vibrating tantrums from my three year old.
• And seemingly endless fits of  bloody itching and scratching from my eight year old.
• Two of my good friends are currently dismantling their marriage bonds.
• And I keep noticing the five pounds I want to lose.
• So I've been crying a lot.
• Which has made me very grateful for love. 
• The kind of love that isn't based on how much I've accomplished,  proven or impressed. That isn't based on how much I'm worth, how much I weigh or how well I'm doing. But the kind of love that decides, simply, to love. No matter what.  
• Even when I'm down.