“So how does it feel? To stand on the board?” a friend asked, after I told him of a recent surfing trip. To answer that it was “fun” won’t be inaccurate, but it’s just too weak a description for an experience that merits more than a lazy adjective. I wanted to give the rush justice with an elaborate answer, because it was an elaborate feeling.
And so I zoned off to recall the scenes of my first go-around: myself planked on the deck, which was the only thing that separated me from the sea; hands on the grainy rails, foot tip-toed on the leash plug, and anticipation for the standup when the waves came. When it did, I remember sliding my feet in position to establish a stance, which led to either the splashing of seawater on my eyes on failed attempts, or the air caressing my face on successful turns. It was equal parts chaotic and peaceful. It was beautiful.
But somehow, I said none of that. On my desire to say so much, I ended up confounded, and all I could muster was a knee-jerk bromide: “How does it feel like?… It’s like the world’s mine.”
What followed was silence, then a mocking laughter. “Parang pang-teleserye lang ah!” I chuckled along, after realizing what I said may prompt Leo Decaprio’s Jack Dawson in Titanic to suddenly turn territorial.
There’s a reason recreational activities are called as such. These engagements are more than just welcome respites from the jarring monotony of routines, but also a form of recalibration for one’s holistic wellness. A breath of fresh air! A shot of new blood!
The best of its kind, however, are those that let one reflect. Take surfing, for example. It doesn’t take a sentimental person to recognize the metaphor it draws with life, because the similarities present themselves in the barest form.
“Iba ’yung saya na dulot ng surfing,” said the head trainer of the surfing school I attended, whose name got deleted from my phone that got corrupted (Sorry, kuya. But rest assured that your surfing and life lessons live on, don’t worry.) “Parang sa buhay, sasakyan mo lang ’yung alon.”
He added that in the middle of some rides, you slow down and start to think that it’s time to jump off the board, before a new wave pushes you back on track and onto the shore. It’s nothing more than a prosaic account, but it’s also much more than that with the magnificent poetic undertones.
The same goes with scuba diving. While urban communities move at a break-neck pace, the underwater world that divers explore moves at its own speed. One that is slow but sure. One that reminds us that our biggest concerns are ultimately petty. One that gives life perspective and balance.
Ultimately, surfing is not just about riding the waves, as diving is more than just entering a new world. It all stands for something more.
Recreational activities are not limited to any particular pursuits, but are rather limited by one’s own mind. Even a simple stroll around the park or a quick escape to a moviehouse can do the trick, but only if he lets himself be recreated by the moment. In which case, the world is his.