6 a.m.
Nestled among the rocks of Trinidad a symmetrical swell was rolling through as the sun’s first rays began to kiss the water. The full moon still hung brightly on the Western horizon. Porpoises rolled in the glassy water, passing underneath my feet. Sea stacks rose as monolithic columns in the water to the North looking towards the Head. A delicate haze stood on the shore and color was being painted in the wispy clouds. It left me with the ethereal impression that I was sitting in an other-worldly CGI creation of an artist. A set of waves began approaching and I paddled hard towards the outside through the icy Northern California waters. Quickly turning 180 degrees, I felt myself being lifted by the wave and my board began to accelerate as if an invisible hand pushed me forward. I leaped to my feet. Angling the board right, down the face of the wave I absorbed the force of gravity in my legs as I made an accelerating turn at the bottom of the wave. I heard the thunderous crash of the breaker just behind me. Pumping down the line of this animated head-high wall of water brought to life a playful part of me buried latent by adulthood and responsibility. A nagging voice had been bothering me all morning – “Get to work!” But at that moment, another voice spoke with clarity and authority:
This is here for you.
Live. Linger. Let go.
Then go to work.
After all, most of the world still sleeps.
