I admit: I have a Type A personality. I suffer from the "hurry up syndrome." Every trip to the islands shows me the error of my way. Here time doesn't exist. Traffic is, yes, a bit of a hassle, but no one honks their horn. People are much more likely to let you into their lane than cut you off. A simple "shaka" in return is all that's expected.
As you know, I just spent 8 days surfing on Oahu. I basically lived in the ocean the entire time. Surfing is a great exercise for the body. But even more it's an exercise for the soul, a time for unparalleled mental restoration. Poet William Wordsworth, who was a prodigious walker, once said that poetry was "emotion recollected in tranquility." Take, if you will, my experience at Kailua Beach, the two and a half mile stretch of pristine white sand I once called home.
I have discovered that my tranquility develops about one second after my toes touch the sand. It takes that much time to detach myself from all my worries and my cares. I have a new awareness of myself, my world, and my God.
Carrying a surfboard into the ocean is not the only place this occurs, just the best. Monks take to their cells. Hermits to their shells. Writers withdraw to secluded spots. Grownups from Hawaii go to the beach, where motion makes time stand still. At "my" beach, I am totally and completely in the present. It's like that strange experience when you get so absorbed in reading a good book you are unaware you are reading. There are no discussions, no arguments, not even any emails to answer. You've stepped out of time into a new, reposeful now.
The union of body and mind reaches its highest height in sports such as surfing. Here there are no sophisticated debates, no squabbles about text types or "best" translations of the Bible. While surfing, the common man reaches excellence by making demands on himself. We are about the business of creating a unique self as we discover the stony strength that is there in all of us. For me, surfing has narrowed the distance between the person I am and the person I can be. When I head back to the shore after my final wave, I am twice young. True, I have little in common with the young Dave.
He thought school was a bore. I love studying. He had no career aspirations. I have been blessed with a career that can only be described as unbelievably satisfying. He was content to be island-bound. I suffer from an incurable Wanderlust. And so it goes. Yet there remains one thing that young Dave and the not-so-young Dave have in common. Both responded to a primal call to be one with nature by getting on top of a piece of fiberglass-covered foam. Only when I look in the mirror am I aware of any change. Today I am in my body as it was and is and shall be forevermore.
And now, in my 70s, I am convinced more than ever of the untapped potential resident in my body. Some may think that I operate at a level physically that others may consider unusual. I don't. All I know is this: If we are to outwit old age, we have to remain active, whatever it takes. For me, surfing is the secret of youth. The waves awaken the same feeling they did when I was a kid. Their grandeur and beauty have never changed. When I come out of the water, I feel larger than life. And for just a little while, I return to the glory days of my youth.
The message: Go to the beach. It's medicine for the soul.