Several years ago, I stumbled across a great quote while reading Mark Lukach’s blog post Why I Bodysurf. “I’ve occasionally had a bad time surfing,” says Lukach, “but I’ve never had a bad time bodysurfing.”
As both a board-surfer and bodysurfer, the quote rang true for me too. When it comes to surfing, I’m often very critical of my wave-riding ability.
Perhaps it has something to do with standing up on the surfboard. It feels like I’m onstage and I have to perform because people are watching. There’s a lot of ego involved in surfing for this very reason.
When surfing, I sometimes leave the water feeling worse than when I got in. Maybe I had a bad wipeout, broke a board or a leash, dropped in on someone, or just didn’t surf as well as I wanted to.
I feel bad when I don’t perform well; for not being as good as the professional surfers I constantly see shredding up and down my instagram feed. I consider myself to be a good surfer, but never good enough.
But when I’m bodysurfing, something else happens entirely—I come out of the ocean feeling transformed, like I’ve shed some negative mental/emotional baggage.
In fact, I can’t remember a single time when I left the water upset after a bodysurf session. Perhaps this is because no one judges me when I bodysurf.
“One of the cool things about bodysurfing is that you’re really anonymous out there,” says Mark Cunningham. “You’re just this coconut, bobbing out in the lineup and there aren’t any expectations placed on you. So don’t worry about stage fright. You’re never onstage.”
When bodysurfing, I’m never trying to perform for a crowd, I’m just interacting with the natural elements and having fun. My ego is at bay and my sense of self fades away.
For me, the sensory experience of bodysurfing is what makes it so profound. It takes me out of my head and into my body. Rather than sitting or standing on top of the ocean, I’m fully immersed in it.
Bodysurfing is a good reminder that I am not apart from nature, I’m part of it—I belong here.
