My summer began in June when i decided to sleep in my buddy's garage in Cardiff, a bustling little surfer town in North County San Diego. We arranged his things, hung sparkly wall coverings and put down a nice rug to make it more homey, homie. Of course, this ambienced shed had an ocean view and a bathroom. Niice!!! I could urinate and look at the ocean. Many sleepy afternoons were spent watching whales pass by in the distance without even lifting my head from the pillow. Pretty damn sweet spot...even for a garage.
The shower was being used as storage though, so for the first month or so, i showered at the beach, gym and friends houses. Sometimes i would sneak into the campground across the PCH after the guards left for the night for a quick rinse. Remove the shower from your house and guaranteed any fresh water hitting your body feels ten times better. Funny how taking something so simple away creates so much appreciation for it. I try to imagine my life without things like that once in awhile...running water, a refrigerator, my car, legs...just to remind myself to be thankful. I forget. We all do.
Garage or not, i lived the dream this summer...surfing almost every day, enjoying the sun, surviving on nothing and simply bouncing from moment to moment. What a life! I figured out how to get across the sand solo with my big ass board and that changed everything. I could now just go surfing without texting and tweeting and facebooking and harrassing everyone in sight to help me. Autonomy.
This is a monumental transition for me which i can only just begin to explain. Surfers will somewhat understand because they know the power of the ocean...especially if they've grown up with her...but the depth of the pain while sitting and watching is unexplainable. The ocean called and i was driven to answer. The difference this summer? I opened my mind.
It's a matter of simple physics. Wheels and sand don't mix. Now, all of a sudden, fighting to push my chair through the sand and thinking i needed some expensive elaborate contraption or a grueling piggyback ride from a tired friend became obsolete with a simple, yet powerful, thought. Why does any place need to be "wheelchair" accessible? I have arms. I can get anywhere i want to. Why does my chair need to go? A seemingly simple concept, but for some reason i was blind to it for ten years. So i left my chair behind...and my life changed.
A couple very simple devices changed everything too. A minimalist wheelie cart got my big ass board from the car to the sand and a quick releasable fin enabled me to drag it through the sand and paddle out from the shallows. Thats it. I'm surfing solo.
I kind of lost sight of things for a little while there, but the ocean runs through my veins and a hug from her reminds me of who i'm meant to be. Being close to her this summer brought me home. What a summer! Do what you love.