If I had to work to strict writing deadlines I’d be fucked.
I’ve started and not finished about 3 posts. Partly because I’m a perfectionist, but mainly because I’ve got writers block. I’m pretty exhausted most days from surfing (and drinking copious amounts of wine). So, apologies dear reader, this is just a little update. My more focused articles will be back shortly.
Surfing is a funny old sport. Don’t get me wrong. I love it. However, I am not a classic surfer. I’ve never been told to ‘relax’ so much in my life. It’s a sport of many failures and wipe outs. For example, today I got battered by so many waves I renamed myself ‘Slamantha’. Yet, when you get a wave, fucking hell, it feels so good. Getting battered by white water, taking 15 minutes to reach the line-up, exhausted, it’s all worth it for that feeling.
It’s definitely not about being a perfectionist, it’s about just getting out there and doing it. Learning to stay calm (!!!) is my main struggle. I am not a master of zen, and have never claimed to be. I have little patience and a short fuse. I’m Aries with Leo rising, what else do you expect?
I’m getting better though. If you ignore today, which entailed getting battered by an ‘energetic’ set of around 5 waves, having a paddy and then stomping out the water. Hey, some days I’ve got it, some days I don’t. One point of progress: I have finally learnt to duck under the waves and avoid the rather powerful foam facial. No one wants one of those.
Not bad for a girl who used to be terrified of the sea.
So, I’ve officially set up camp here until the new year. Surfing on Christmas day? Yeah, sounds like a dream.
It also helps that surfer guys are fucking gorgeous.