A Tale of Two Surfers

The more time I spend surfing, the more I notice there's a spectrum out in the water. On one end, you're developing a relationship with the ocean. You understand that so much of it is out of your control. If you don't catch a wave, it doesn't matter. You're out there for something deeper. On the other end, it's fear. Zero-sum. My wave. Get off my wave.

Recently in Costa Rica, I got to see both ends up close.

On a Tuesday, my friend Nahuel and I were surfing at a break on the other side of the Nicoya peninsula. An instructor came over to the area where I'd found some consistent waves. He gave me an aggressive earful. Told me to stay away from him and his student. Said some things that weren't particularly nice. I apologized and paddled away. That interaction threw off my whole day.

Two days later, Nahuel and I went back. We paddled out before sunrise. Moon and stars. Five of us in the water. Everyone respectful. An Italian surfer, basically a professional, was out there riding beautifully. He had no problem catching waves, but he wasn't hoarding them. As I was getting ready to ride one in, I saw a wave coming. Then I noticed he was at the peak. It was his wave. I was about to back off. He looked at me and said, go, go. He just gave it to me.

That same morning, the instructor showed up again and gave Nahuel a hard time too. Nahuel said something afterward that stuck with me. "Imagine having to live 24/7 with all that anger."

How you approach surfing is how you approach life. I don't think we can compartmentalize. What you carry is what you spill. And what you spill gets spilled back on you.

Read the full piece on Substack.

Learn more about the adventure at www.heart-strong.org