Is Surfing a Subversive Activity?

With a full day ahead of me, I realized if I was going to get any exercise in for the day it would need to be early. I decided I should beat the traffic and arrived at the office, aka, school early. I put on my walking shoes and head phones a little annoyed that I didn't have enough time to walk the loop in my neighborhood. Full disclosure: the walk near work offers me an unadulterated view of the Pacific Ocean. I remind myself of that fact on a regular basis and yet—there's something to be said for creature comforts—or in this case, my signature stroll.

I made my way toward Ocean Beach with 30 minutes to spare. It was slightly gray and a little cold, with no wind to be found. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of something I had never seen before: a surfer with a board attached to his bicycle. Riding his bi-ped in a wet suit, I found the physics of this feat to be one of the coolest things I've ever seen. I thought to myself,  Nice. What a perfect way to start the day. I envy this man. Freedom and fun. Let's go!

Later in the day, I walked behind the school building; from this perch one can still see the Pacific. For some reason, that surfer came to mind. A burning question popped into my head. I needed an answer. I wondered, Is surfing a subversive activity?

I started to consider the ways I think it might be. You're going to tell me that a human being can enter into that vast pull and power of the ocean and work with it for no other purpose than enjoyment. Seems daring. Pretty ridiculous. Totally scary. Rather improbable and yet magnificent.

Let me be clear, no government is or ever will be overthrown by surfers or an organized union of them. Why not? Because part of surfing is that its very nature defies organization. For example, the name of the popular movie "Soul Surfer" actually describes philosophical and spiritual concept first developed and introduced in the 1960s to define the sport - or activity - in its purest form.

As written in "Twelve Signs You Know You're a Soul Surfer," 

As with many other sports, there is always an innate drive to seek and find the original and unadulterated values, virtues, and essence of something simultaneously special and fragile.

The roots of surfing are rich and culturally significant.

The practice of riding waves blends utility and pleasure, necessity and joy, and has been socially adopted by Polynesian and Peruvian societies for thousands of years.

So, when the sport of surfing became a commercial hit in the Southern California beach culture, some felt the need to detach themselves from the profit-oriented side that quickly emerged from it.

Surfing purists are often called soul surfers.

The expression "soul surfer" was first used to name a song by Johnny Fortune (1943-2006), a surf guitar hero from Warren, Ohio.

Soul surfers are the guardians of the ultimate joy of walking on water.

They (aim to) represent the sport's counterculture; they're an informal army of unarmed soldiers or missionaries that remind us of what, in the end, surfing is all about.

"Never defined by tenets or principles, soul surfing nonetheless came into its own in the mid-and late-1970s as the catchall opposition philosophy to professional surfing, which encompassed not only prize money competition but much of the surf industry and surf media," notes Matt Warshaw, author of "The Encyclopedia of Surfing."

Whether or not that man with the board on a bike is a full fledged soul surfer, in the Outer Sunset, there is the sent that surfers surf for joy, to connect to nature. They surf to be part of a community, to live a life less ordinary. As written in Soul & Surf, "They don’t surf as a sport to win prizes... it's a little bit more spiritual than that. It is a complete and consuming immersion in nature, a submission to the whims of a set of corduroy lines determined by a pressure system in a faraway ocean. It is soul and life and compassion and style – and a glimmer of connection to the present moment that is addictive and extraordinary and essential." In short, they surf for the stoke.

Ocean Beach, San Francisco

And this is what I find subversive. In a culture obsessed with measurement and gain, rankings and titles, surfing stands somewhat singular. It says "try me" on a whim and a dare. It brings a man or woman, teen and a few elders into the chilly ocean—saltwater and all—offrring but a  simple message: enjoy. You may or may not agree with my deducction, but it's hard to deny: surfing certainly is spiritual.

I can't join these soul surfers (I did ask my caridologist) but please know, I nod and bow to those of you looking for but one thing on a Monday, Wednesday or Saturday morning: the perfect wave. 

I'll end with the closure of a former surfing club president wrote on his emails: stay stoked. I mean it.

Photo Credits
Ocean Beach
Bike 
Local Surfers

20 for 2020: Number 20—Ocean Beach/The Great Highway

Time and again, San Francisco does nearly everything in its power to end our relationship. The nutty politics, the secularism that rules the roost and the perennial challenges of city life wear me down. It's a grind plus. And yet, this City by the Bay is a place I remain committed to—not because I have to, but because I want to. This city/county where my mom grew up and my grandparents settled after immigration is my home. And, one of its greatest attributes has risen out of this pandemic. It is 20 on my 20 for 2020: the closure of the Great Highway along Ocean Beach.

As written on Golden Gate National Parks Conservancy's website

Picture a 3.5-mile stretch of white beach with few tourists and no high rises. It's just you and the waves and the seabirds at Ocean Beach, on the westernmost border of San Francisco, adjacent to Golden Gate Park. Great for strolling and flying kites, but the water is frigid and the currents hazardous for all but the most experienced surfers.

What this description of Ocean Beach is NOT telling you is the reason there are so few tourists. It only alludes to why it might be you and the waves, interacting with the wildlife and the water. The last line of the descriptor is a give away, but so is the famous quote by Mark Twain. You might not know exactly where he wrote: the coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco, but I do. With pen in hand and paper drenched by the fog, Samuel Clemens was inspired by Ocean Beach in the Outer Sunset of San Francisco in July, 1880.

To me, Ocean Beach answers the question why those without expectations are happiest. Arrive in the summer for a day at the beach and you'll be disappointed (unless you're down with gray, fog and a good fleece). Arrive in November, December and January and what you find is however.....magnificence.

In How the Great Highway became San Francisco's most unexpected promenade, Fiona Lee writes

When the pandemic shut down most of the city, much of the 3.5-mile road closed to car traffic and transformed into San Francisco’s newest promenade, one that hugs the edge of the continent and overlooks the sea — the Westside’s version of the Embarcadero.

This long, smooth stretch of concrete has been given a new life. Every weeknight or weekend we aren’t shrouded in wildfire smoke, people flock here to enjoy this urban parkway between Lincoln Way and Sloat Boulevard, to bike and walk, to breathe in a little ocean air without a mask, and to simply enjoy life where we can enjoy crowds while staying socially distanced.

It’s become one of our few “third places,” neither work nor home, left to us now as nearly everything else — restaurants, malls, churches, movie theatres, retail shops, coffee shops and much, much more — closed in the wake of COVID-19. (Yes, some of these places are reopening, but they don't feel safe like the outdoors do.)

I believe that the closing of the Great Highway has done more for the mental and physical health of San Franciscans that any other public health program. 

In December and in January, I came to the Great Highway to find weather and waves that rival any beach in Southern California. I have walked the shore solo and with friends (thank you Haley!!). I have witnessed some of the most remarkable breakers and prolific sunsets that left me utterly convinced Abba Father is the Potter, the Creator and THAT is the work of His hands. I have arrived to this space totally spent, down and in low spirits and every time, I leave feeling a little lighter. I urged my students—many who live as many as 30-40 miles away—to make the trek to the Outer Sunset for this place. Sacred Space, indeed.

The Roman god Janus is depicted with two heads—one looks back and the other ahead. Writing the remaining 10 of my 20 for 2020 in January allowed me to realize how grateful I am fo so many meaningful memories, life giving relationships and experiences as this list suggest. My gaze is focused on all that is to come.  Here's to 21 in 2021.

Photo Credits
Ocean Beach
Ocean Beach Sunset
Top photo is one I took for the purpose of this blog... In doing so I ran into a former coworker and had the good fortune to catch up and walk together!