I am a beginner at surfing. I also cannot swim.
The last time I was in water deeper than I could stand in was in grade one, during a school swim session, when another kid pushed me into the deep end. I panicked, grabbed the edge of the pool, and pulled myself up. As an adult I have nearly drowned once. The only thing standing between me and disaster in the water now is my surfboard and the leash around my ankle.
So I am also, slowly, learning to swim.
Surfing is the first thing I have done in a long time that puts me into a clean flow state. Out there my mind has exactly four jobs — paddle toward the right wave, stand up, balance, do not drown — and there is no room for anything else. No email, no Just English, no thinking about the thinking. Just the next wave.
And in the gaps between waves, I have noticed something. A lot of what surfing teaches me is what runna company has been trying to teach me for years. I just was not listening until I was in the water.
On starting
You do not need the fanciest board. Surfing began with people balancing on plain wooden planks. Use what you already have and begin.
You do not need to stand up and do tricks. At the start, the only thing that matters is the boring stuff — paddling, balance, staying steady. The tricks come for free later, or they do not. Either way the boring stuff is the work.
You cannot wait for the perfect wave. You will not get one. You go with what comes, and if it does not take you far enough, you turn around and paddle back out.
On other people
A coach helps. Someone with more time in the water can see the mistakes you cannot. The first hour with a good coach is worth more than the first month without one.
You can watch endless surfing videos. You will not learn anything until you are wet.
You will see people riding waves you cannot imagine riding. Some of them started six months ago. It is sy to feel small. But you are not on their wave. You are on yours.
On the actual work
The person splashing around, laughing, testing things, often learns faster than the person paddling with clenched teeth. Lightness is a technique.
When a wave knocks you down, it is not the end of anything. You climb back on and you try again. That is the whole job.
You learn what you are good at and what you are not by being out there. Not by thinking about it on the beach. The water is the teacher.
You can also learn by watching. How does she choose her waves. Where does he sit relative to the break. Why did that one work. Then you try it yourself until something clicks.
On the long view
You cannot tell how far you have come from inside the water. You only see it when you look back at the beach and realize how small it has gotten.
Do not paddle out to the biggest waves on day one. Start small. Build confidence. The ocean is not going anywhere.
Some days you will give it everything and still come home unhappy with how it went. That is fine. Tomorrow is a new day, and the waves do not remember.
I do not know if any of this is original. Probably none of it is. But it landed differently when I learned it while trying not to drown.