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I went for a surf today. Sun shining, wind light offshore, tide full, water aqua-clear. The swell was small for Denmark, but there was a perfect right and left in front of the surf club.I haven't been having a great time with surfing for quite a while - a sort of crisis of confidence - but today's session renewed my love affair with it. I stayed just in from the main take-off area and took the smaller lefts on the inside. When it gets crowded it is often my strategy to sit on the shoulder and wait for the slightly fuller waves that break wide of the usual take-off area. I get more waves this way as most people are after the bigger sets and I just sit in the channel and watch them all scrabbling to compete.
I hate competing and I don't like people watching me when I surf. I often take myself off to another break to get away from them because I can't be bothered with the abuse that sometimes occurs at a busy break when the waves are good, although today everyone was in a mellow mood and the hard-cores were up the beach at a bigger break.
I got so many waves that I began to take my time getting back out so I could have a rest. On one of these occasions I started paying particular attention to the way I was paddling. It has been part of my routine lately to simply focus on enjoying the environment I am in instead of stressing about wave etiquette and other people. I took care to be aware of how I was lifting my arms, pulling my hands through the water and how my body was positioned on the board. I got to thinking that someone was watching me, which of course was me.
And then this thought came into my head. Maybe it was God(do). I use this invented word to stress that my image of God doesn't have him sitting in the sky on a cloud looking down on me. But 'I' was watching, the big 'I', as well as the little one, which is me. And I thought: if God(do) is watching, I had better take more notice of what I am doing. Not because God(do) is a mean old bastard who will criticise me, but because it matters.
It matters because by paying attention I am making every movement, action and thought as beautiful as I can. And that honours existence for its own sake, not because I am a better or worse surfer or artist or bass player than someone else.
I hate competing and I don't like people watching me when I surf. I often take myself off to another break to get away from them because I can't be bothered with the abuse that sometimes occurs at a busy break when the waves are good, although today everyone was in a mellow mood and the hard-cores were up the beach at a bigger break.
I got so many waves that I began to take my time getting back out so I could have a rest. On one of these occasions I started paying particular attention to the way I was paddling. It has been part of my routine lately to simply focus on enjoying the environment I am in instead of stressing about wave etiquette and other people. I took care to be aware of how I was lifting my arms, pulling my hands through the water and how my body was positioned on the board. I got to thinking that someone was watching me, which of course was me.
And then this thought came into my head. Maybe it was God(do). I use this invented word to stress that my image of God doesn't have him sitting in the sky on a cloud looking down on me. But 'I' was watching, the big 'I', as well as the little one, which is me. And I thought: if God(do) is watching, I had better take more notice of what I am doing. Not because God(do) is a mean old bastard who will criticise me, but because it matters.
It matters because by paying attention I am making every movement, action and thought as beautiful as I can. And that honours existence for its own sake, not because I am a better or worse surfer or artist or bass player than someone else.
