Surfing alone & Bach

Incredibly, as it is one of the periodic holiday seasons in our seaside haven, I scored my favourite peak around the bay alone and it was working sublimely in both directions for the 4GF Standard. A mere 100 metres or so back, a cache of surfers continued to scramble for poorer waves. Hallelujah and thank you is all I can say.

There is something very special, even spiritual about a lone surfing session and particularly so at this spot for me it seems. I have been mercilessly thrashed here and wondered if I would make it back to shore. It is deep and spooky shark thoughts often ease their way into mind, particularly while one is waiting around between sets. It has goaded me into taking off on waves that I would normally have second thoughts about doing so often because there is an even bigger wave behind that I know is going to attempt to part me from my mat and wrestle me down to the sand. It is a long, long way from assistance if it is needed, but the waves can be sensational and it draws me back time and time again when I judge the conditions will be good. Every time I go there though, I am very wary and have to face my fear again. Even on a day like today where the waves threw up little in the way of surprises. But of course I don't know that until the session is complete and I am safely walking back around the bay and find myself wearing a silly, vacant lopsided grin.

In his thesis titled "Surfing and Spirituality", Leslie Kerby states that spirituality can be described as a transformation of consciousness. He claims that this is the state he can feel while he is surfing, but for me, it is more noticeable after I have finished a session and can remain with me for hours making it difficult to do anything else at all. I can only describe it as a state of bliss that I think arises from spending a period of time completely locked in to the rhythm of the moment. The kilometer walk back around the bay only enhances this state further and often I am barely aware of what I am doing as I get changed and return to my car at which point I really need to start concentrating at least a little bit more. Today, though, the bliss was only further deepened as the Arie from the 3rd movement of Bach's Cantata 82 was playing on my radio as I drove home. I remained irrevocably glued to the seat of my car long after I had arrived there until this beautiful piece of music finished.



This version is sung by the great counter tenor Andreas Scholl whose achingly beautiful voice only strengthens further a life unimaginable without the sublime and deeply spiritually moving music of J S Bach and riding waves!