I went surfing for the second time today, and for the first time in my life, I stood up on a surfboard in the ocean. I didn't let the board ride me, I controlled it and pointed it right at the shore line, eyes straight ahead until the fin hit the sand. I landed with a fist bump to the sky and a guy just north of me giving me a cheer. I hopped off the board and I looked at the smooth surface around me and I thought, This deserves a f*cking cartwheel. This deserves that lick of enjoyment, that overwhelming power of pure joy and bewilderment and accomplishment – an ecstasy of I've been dreaming of this for years and finally I have this moment in my memory. Easy as pie, my hands made contact with the ground, followed by each foot. I looked back at the horizon and the sun is setting, and I see my great grandmother's painting, the one I pointed out to a friend earlier, which hangs in the sitting room. The sun in that painting glistens a soft orange between breaks of waves leading up to the shore, and that's what I saw today: warmth glowing on the smooth surface of the water, reds and oranges glowing right on the thin layer of wet along the shore. I felt connected to this woman, as if we stood with our toes dug into the same sand nearly a century apart, looking at the rays of light break through clouds, casting tangerines between lines of fluff, connected through space and time and experience.
|Grandma Norris's painting|
|Huntington Beach, oct. 8, 2017|
This feeling of this is where I need to be right now overtakes me. It's the same feeling that I witnessed in the mother pushing her baby in a stroller on manhattan beach last friday, just looking down smiling while walking. Not on her phone, not looking around at the people passing by her, nor at the sun rising to her right. She's looking at her child, beaming. This is where she needs to be. And it's the same feeling that I got looking at the man looking at the shore. He's not giving any mind to people running through his view point, and he doesn't catch me watching him. He's experiencing the break of a new day, and it's doing something happy-filling to his brain. This surfer dude, with his lips slightly ajar and eyes a bit squinted has a smile he can't help but show on his face. it's not an ear to ear smile, it's a twinkle that you get in your cheeks – butterflies, just not in the stomach. I'm having it now, where the cheekbones are showing and I just feel happy.
And I know that this moment will pass and I know i'm not going to feel this way forever. But I had this good wave today and it made today a Good Day. I will have Good Moments. Capital G, Capital D Good Days. And I will have capital B, capital D days. It comes and goes in waves. The key is to not let those bad days or a bad hour dictate the rest of my week. Let the good times shine through, breaking warm rays through dark clouds to create something beautiful. I'm letting this moment set up an amazing week ahead of me. Even if shit fails and I never get hired for a job again, I had this great session and good wave, and sometimes that's all one needs: some appreciation in store for later.
voice memo transcript | 10.8.17 | 18:35 | state rt 55 n