The Zen of Surfing
(Page 2 of 2)
July / August 2006
Jaimal Yogis from Shambhala Sun
When I realized this on an experiential level, the waves lost their ability to paralyze me. I began to see through them and enjoy riding them.
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The same thing happens in meditation with waves of thought. At first our minds are stormy, and the water is choppy and mucky with silt and sand. It's like jumping into a washing machine. We get thrown around by currents and whitewash with little awareness. The waves are too close together and they all seem very solid, very real. But as we practice regularly, the winds of thought become gentler and the sea gets what surfers call 'glassy.' There are still surges of thought, but they are distinguishable, like the sets of waves that surfers patiently wait for because they're the easiest to anticipate and have the clearest form. We see them coming and can ride them with poise, stability, and balance, or simply let them pass. And the more aware we become, we can even begin to see-while we're riding-that the wave is impermanent and lacks individuality.
The more we practice, the more we will be able to calm our minds to the point that none of the waves moves us or frightens us during our meditation. We can just bob in the crystal waters. Of course, as we go about our everyday lives there will be emotional rollers we will not be able to let pass, and these too are reasons to rejoice: Surf's up!
It's in those moments of sadness, anger, ecstasy, and lust that we can freak out and fall, or just relax and go with it. Once we are comfortable on our boards, we can carve it up, analyze it, just play. And when a beautiful wave comes, perhaps we fall in love or hold a newborn baby, we can catch it, maybe even get inside the hollow tube and see its beautiful emptiness. But we will know as the wave ends not to be attached. It's just a bunch of salt water.
Jaimal Yogis is a freelance writer living in San Francisco. He is currently working on a book about Zen and surfing. Excerpted from the Buddhist magazine Shambhala Sun (March 2006). Subscriptions: $28/yr. (6 issues) from 1345 Spruce St., Boulder, CO 80302; www.shambhalasun.com.
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