What I Do to Get Through by James Withey

Author:James Withey
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jessica Kingsley Publishers
Published: 2021-02-18T00:00:00+00:00

SURFING

Marigny Goodyear

I’m straddling my surfboard out past the breakers, watching the smooth, glassy water ripple from the falling raindrops drizzling down. The late September air has a bite to it, as if autumn is finally sinking its teeth in. I am lost in wonder at Mother Ocean’s beauty.

I look up just in time to see a five-foot wall of water barreling toward me. There is no time to think. Instinctively, I turn and begin to paddle with all my might. I feel the pull of gravity and speed, as the wave picks me up and I slide down the face, leaning right and digging my inside rail into the wave. I glide up and down the face of the wave, and for just a few seconds, I am part of it.

Time is different in the ocean, and I realize that the perceived hour I’ve been in the water has actually stretched into three. It is these moments that I live for. In these three hours, I am at peace.

Peace. Not an easy thing for me to achieve. As one who suffers from chronic stress and anxiety, peace is the goal that, most of the time, seems just out of reach. But not here. Not while Mother Ocean cradles me on her surface.

I’ve suffered from anxiety my entire life and have only been surfing for about ten years. It’s hard for me to think of how I coped before Mother Ocean became my guide. Surfing has changed my life, and now many of my decisions are based on how and when I can get to the beach. Now that I’ve heard her call and listened to her guidance, I know there is no better way for me.

The moment that I step into the tide line and wade into the shallows, I am not thinking about anything but how to navigate through the white water. My mind does not wander past getting out beyond the shifty breaking waves, and once I’m out, I’m searching.

For that dark line on the horizon. For that little bump that is a smidge higher than the rest of the surface. Sometimes I don’t see anything, but in my gut I feel a pull to the north, or south. I listen to that feeling. I trust myself in the water.

That is in stark contrast to the rest of my life, when I am constantly questioning, over-analyzing, and personalizing just about every little thing. On land, at any given moment I live in some state of overwhelm. The idea of a trip to the grocery store can bring me to tears. Managing a household’s schedule makes my heartbeat race. Trying daily to succeed in my career can lead to a migraine.

I have trouble listening to my instincts on land. My gut says one thing and my head quickly tells me a conflicting story. Then my heart interjects with an emotional response and, pretty soon, I am living within a tornado. It’s exhausting, and eventually causes me to collapse into a puddle on the floor.

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