Big-Wave Mindfulness:
Surfing For a Connection
by Maya Frost
Surfing is mindfulness in action.
Riding the biggest waves is an all-out, fully-present-or-die-trying proposition.
I've never tried surfing, but I've done my share of snowboarding/ I am trying to imagine
what it would be like to carve the slopes with several tons of avalanche
chasing me down the mountain.
First of all, I would have to hike to the top and wait to catch the biggest avalanche,
getting pummeled by several in the process. Oh, and then try not to think too much
about the abominable snowman poised to take a hunk out of my leg when I least expect it.
Yeah. I'm stoked.
I don't really "get" surfing, but I stand in awe of it. It's impossible to avoid acknowledging
the strength, timing, grace and heart-blazing courage required just to catch those
enormous waves, let alone ride them smoothly without wiping out.
Whether or not you're into water, "Riding Giants" is a breathtaking film guaranteed
to raise your pulse rate. Following the rise of big wave surfing from its ragtag roots
in the fifties to the jet-ski boosted endorsement deals of today, "Riding Giants"
offers a fascinating look at surf culture in all its guts and glory--not to mention its
sun-bleached hair, wave-toned bodies, and plenty of pre-cancerous skin cells.
Although several world-class surfers are profiled, the one I find most amazing is Jeff Clark,
a native of Half Moon Bay, California who is credited with discovering Mavericks,
a notoriously gnarly big wave mecca twenty miles south of San Francisco.
Clark spotted the monstrous waves from the cliffs of Half Moon Bay as a teenager.
One day, he decided to paddle the half-mile in chilly ocean water to check it out.
Never mind that he was too far out for his worried friend--or anyone else--to save him.
Forget that these waves would turn out to be so huge that, years later, seasoned pros
from Waimea would find them jaw-dropping. Disregard the razor-sharp rocks waiting
to chew up anyone unfortunate enough to be slammed to the shore.
Clark had his first of many ride-of-your-life experiences that day.
He couldn't believe the power of it, the magic, the unimaginable thrill.
He went out to surf that incredible vortex every day. Alone. For fifteen years.
I'm guessing that his parents were either
a) clueless about where he was,
or b) powerless to prevent him from returning. He couldn't find anyone insane enough to join him.
He wasn't doing it for the attention, for the chicks, for the cameras, or for the money.
He was out there getting pounded for the sake of that big ol' grin on his face and
the unfathomable sense of connection to something larger than himself.
Clark was like some modern day ascetic, putting himself through tortuous rites
and death-defying acts of faith while living in seclusion. He became one with the
water on a daily basis through rigorous attention and exhaustive exploration.
I am humbled. I envy him. And I can't stop thinking about how most of us will
never have this all-consuming passion or such a magnificent opportunity
to experience oneness with anything.
Jeff Clark may be obsessed. But he is a man whose mindfulness
has inspired and elevated him--and saved him on countless occasions.
We should all be so lucky to discover such a wondrous wave.
© 2004-2020 Maya Frost
When sharing, please include the following:
Maya Frost is an author, mindfulness trainer, and creative change strategist.
Learn more at MayaFrost.com
Read more tips, stories, and articles about mindfulness!
Riding the biggest waves is an all-out, fully-present-or-die-trying proposition.
I've never tried surfing, but I've done my share of snowboarding/ I am trying to imagine
what it would be like to carve the slopes with several tons of avalanche
chasing me down the mountain.
First of all, I would have to hike to the top and wait to catch the biggest avalanche,
getting pummeled by several in the process. Oh, and then try not to think too much
about the abominable snowman poised to take a hunk out of my leg when I least expect it.
Yeah. I'm stoked.
I don't really "get" surfing, but I stand in awe of it. It's impossible to avoid acknowledging
the strength, timing, grace and heart-blazing courage required just to catch those
enormous waves, let alone ride them smoothly without wiping out.
Whether or not you're into water, "Riding Giants" is a breathtaking film guaranteed
to raise your pulse rate. Following the rise of big wave surfing from its ragtag roots
in the fifties to the jet-ski boosted endorsement deals of today, "Riding Giants"
offers a fascinating look at surf culture in all its guts and glory--not to mention its
sun-bleached hair, wave-toned bodies, and plenty of pre-cancerous skin cells.
Although several world-class surfers are profiled, the one I find most amazing is Jeff Clark,
a native of Half Moon Bay, California who is credited with discovering Mavericks,
a notoriously gnarly big wave mecca twenty miles south of San Francisco.
Clark spotted the monstrous waves from the cliffs of Half Moon Bay as a teenager.
One day, he decided to paddle the half-mile in chilly ocean water to check it out.
Never mind that he was too far out for his worried friend--or anyone else--to save him.
Forget that these waves would turn out to be so huge that, years later, seasoned pros
from Waimea would find them jaw-dropping. Disregard the razor-sharp rocks waiting
to chew up anyone unfortunate enough to be slammed to the shore.
Clark had his first of many ride-of-your-life experiences that day.
He couldn't believe the power of it, the magic, the unimaginable thrill.
He went out to surf that incredible vortex every day. Alone. For fifteen years.
I'm guessing that his parents were either
a) clueless about where he was,
or b) powerless to prevent him from returning. He couldn't find anyone insane enough to join him.
He wasn't doing it for the attention, for the chicks, for the cameras, or for the money.
He was out there getting pounded for the sake of that big ol' grin on his face and
the unfathomable sense of connection to something larger than himself.
Clark was like some modern day ascetic, putting himself through tortuous rites
and death-defying acts of faith while living in seclusion. He became one with the
water on a daily basis through rigorous attention and exhaustive exploration.
I am humbled. I envy him. And I can't stop thinking about how most of us will
never have this all-consuming passion or such a magnificent opportunity
to experience oneness with anything.
Jeff Clark may be obsessed. But he is a man whose mindfulness
has inspired and elevated him--and saved him on countless occasions.
We should all be so lucky to discover such a wondrous wave.
© 2004-2020 Maya Frost
When sharing, please include the following:
Maya Frost is an author, mindfulness trainer, and creative change strategist.
Learn more at MayaFrost.com
Read more tips, stories, and articles about mindfulness!