How To Wait For Your Wave
The truth is, you really do have to let the wave (and your job, and your partner…) come to you.
Photo by Scott Schell
The problem is, I get a little bored — and have a LOT of trouble sitting, and waiting, and watching, while other people catch waves.
This spot, this boredom, is THE SPOT. This is the place. This is where all of the magic happens. This moment births every could have, would have, should have — we will ever have.
And it’s so painfully boring. In some cases, it’s just painful. When you want to be in a relationship, when you want to own your home, when you want to be having a kid…and you’re not. And it’s just not happening, yet. It hurts. It really, really hurts. Especially when you see other people catching lots of waves and posting baby pictures on Facebook, and new jobs on LinkedIn.
But this is the spot. So how do we stay with it? Here’s what I LEARNED THE HARD WAY, from surfing.
I did, eventually, learn how to be a little bit cooler.
The first thing I had to do was slow down. As much as this is not my natural instinct (I’m the person that actually runs to the kitchen to get a snack), turns out, it actually feels good. Moving slower just feels better. It’s easier, more enjoyable.
And then I learned to pause.
So there’s a moment when I know that I caught the wave, and I stop. Lift my chest, and look down the wave. Wow, that’s different. Also turns out this feels good. And then I take a breath, and jump. I jump knowing where I’m going. I jump knowing I chose this wave.
Or I don’t. The pause is also the moment I can decide to stop, and wait for the next wave.
That’s really different than when I was first learning. At first it was, head down, PADDLE! PADDLE! PADDLE! Feel the pull. Someone yells, “Pop-up! Get up!” Eyes up, lock my eyes on some point on the horizon, and jump going god knows where.
Eyes up — keep looking at the horizon, don’t look at the board. Your body follows your gaze, energy follows attention, if you look at the horizon you will make it to the beach. If you look down at the board, well, the same principle applies.
That’s how I got my first set of double back eyes.
It’s harder, it takes longer, and it takes more mastery to do something challenging while being cool. But damn does it feel good.
Photo by Michele McNiff
The problem is, I get a little bored — and have a LOT of trouble sitting, and waiting, and watching, while other people catch waves.
This spot, this boredom, is THE SPOT. This is the place. This is where all of the magic happens. This moment births every could have, would have, should have — we will ever have.
And it’s so painfully boring. In some cases, it’s just painful. When you want to be in a relationship, when you want to own your home, when you want to be having a kid…and you’re not. And it’s just not happening, yet. It hurts. It really, really hurts. Especially when you see other people catching lots of waves and posting baby pictures on Facebook, and new jobs on LinkedIn.
But this is the spot. So how do we stay with it? Here’s what I LEARNED THE HARD WAY, from surfing.
I did, eventually, learn how to be a little bit cooler.
The first thing I had to do was slow down. As much as this is not my natural instinct (I’m the person that actually runs to the kitchen to get a snack), turns out, it actually feels good. Moving slower just feels better. It’s easier, more enjoyable.
And then I learned to pause.
So there’s a moment when I know that I caught the wave, and I stop. Lift my chest, and look down the wave. Wow, that’s different. Also turns out this feels good. And then I take a breath, and jump. I jump knowing where I’m going. I jump knowing I chose this wave.
Or I don’t. The pause is also the moment I can decide to stop, and wait for the next wave.
That’s really different than when I was first learning. At first it was, head down, PADDLE! PADDLE! PADDLE! Feel the pull. Someone yells, “Pop-up! Get up!” Eyes up, lock my eyes on some point on the horizon, and jump going god knows where.
Eyes up — keep looking at the horizon, don’t look at the board. Your body follows your gaze, energy follows attention, if you look at the horizon you will make it to the beach. If you look down at the board, well, the same principle applies.
That’s how I got my first set of double back eyes.
It’s harder, it takes longer, and it takes more mastery to do something challenging while being cool. But damn does it feel good.
Photo by Bryan Garrison
I realized the parallel of this lesson to my life while internet dating in my mid thirties. I was going on three dates a week. Which, like catching those first few waves, was fun and novel. Eventually I would meet someone I liked, and paddle like a fool for a few months after a wave that didn’t want a relationship.
At some point I stopped, and realized this wasn’t leading to what I wanted. And it wasn’t very cool. When I slowed down, and looked, it was clear that my wave had not found me. And I was wasting a shit load of energy.
This spot, this void, is a potent place. Culturally I think we’ve missed the importance of this step in the creative process. Gestation is a thing. It’s important. And sadly, fighting it doesn’t help. It’s just exhausting.
Learning that there is a void, and that you’re in it, and that there can be joy here — is transformative.
I will never forget bouncing on the bed with my roommate, like two year olds that just learned how to use our legs, after they announced a two hour snow delay the first day back after Christmas break, freshman year.
Remember that feeling of exhilaration?
Jumping on your bed is a much better use of energy then trying to drive through the snow during a snow delay. But sadly, that’s what we do. We paddle our asses off trying to make that mash potato wave our best ride. We paddle our asses off trying to turn the first dip-shit we meet into the partner we’ve always wanted.
What if this void were like that snow delay?
What if resting, and enjoying the wait — and maybe even giving yourself permission to do something you love — what if that mattered?
Believe me, you will have to get out of bed. Your day is most certainly coming. The void does not last forever. Gestation concludes. Waves come. And I’ve missed my share of them, and then more waves come. What if how we wait matters?
Because that ride is going to require a lot of you.
What if, when you look out on to the horizon, and you see that wave swelling — you know this is your wave. What if, when you feel that familiar mixing of fear and excitement in your belly — what if you were ready.