Excerpt is from a novel in progress (and so far untitled) by Lee Krinsky

I’ve been depressed for a long time now.  Ex-girlfriend and no luck.  Lost my job months ago.  Thoughts of failure and suicide.  Regret, beer bottles and drugs have been my only friends.  And the alcohol and drugs don’t even do it for me anymore.  Nothing does.  So, I go to bed sober. 

I wake up early.   I remember there is a hurricane off the coast.  I call the surf report.  The waves were big it says, real big.  So I decide to go down.  I go down alone, the way I always surf. 

            I know it’s big before I even see the ocean, from the amount of cars in the parking lot and people watching from the boardwalk.  I don’t bother to check it as I put on my wetsuit.  The suit’s tight, and I’m not sure if I have gained weight or because I have not worn it in so long.  The wax on my board is so old…  

My first look at the ocean stirs in me feelings from long ago.  Feelings I have met only in dreams.  And the waves are big, bigger than I’ve seen in a long time, maybe the biggest ever.  But I don’t care.  I don’t get afraid anymore.  That stopped a long time ago.  It was before the depression.  Life has beat the shit out of me one too many time.  I have nothing to lose at his point.  I have nothing. 

As I start to paddle out the walls of white water coming at me are huge.   I get under the first few but as I get further out they start ripping me off my board.   I realize I am not duck-diving correctly.   I used to have this problem, I remember this now.  I must let go more.   I am clinging to the surface, where I know it’s safe, where the air is.  Yet, some part of me is afraid to dive deep.   Maybe it’s afraid I might not come up.  I’m not sure.  But when the next great wall comes I tell myself to lose all desire to remain above water.  Accept the depth and darkness necessary to pass safely underneath.  Have faith and determine to follow through.

Yet, still afraid to get deep enough, the wave catches me.   I’m ripped off again, somersaulting underwater in the chaos.  It’s a long time I’m under.  Something happens that has not happened in so long.  A part of me gets scared.  What to do? Relax, I tell myself.  But my mind and body resist violently, grasping for air, surface, light- I swallow some water before I reach the surface hyperventilating.  

There are no waves coming now and I make it through the break zone safely. Its been awhile.   I see a big set coming.  I start to paddle outwards, hoping the first one doesn’t break in front of me.  The first one does.  I duck-dive deep, this one all instinct and no thought and manage to get under it.  The next three I paddle over.  

I sit out there for a while watching these monsters come in before I get the nerve to take off on one.  I paddle hard, and soon gliding down the face.  I bottom turn, shoot across the face, and quickly exit on the shoulder before I get caught inside.  I do this a few more times, amazed it is still there.  It makes me laugh to think I had to be in such good shape to be out here.  Had to train.  All in my head. 

But soon I fall on one and get beat pretty bad.  Part of me gets scared again and thinks I’m not going to come up again.  But I do, again gasping hysterically as I break the surface, trying to take in as much air as I can, as if I can make up for the loss of breath.  When I paddle back out, I realized something.  I realize what’s causing all my suffering when I go under.  I am trying to control it- the chaos, being thrown around by something more powerful than myself.   I cannot control the ocean.

It’s then I really begin to take in my surroundings.  But I don’t get scared this time. There is no place for fear here- only awe. I feel the great energy I am in the midst of.   I see how fucking vulnerable I am compared the power of these waves.  These waves could crush me in a second.  If I hit my board or fell the wrong way and it could go right through me.  I could die so easily out here.   

            Another  huge set forms on the horizon. I paddle outwards.  It starts to swell, crest, and break.   And there is nothing I could really do when the great mass of water consumes me.  There is nothing I can do but surrender to it.

So I take off, on the edge of total chaos.  As I fly down the face I feel the tremendous energy of the wave running through me.  I am a current, for a force much greater than myself.  The massive lip starts coming down, soon enveloping me.  Everything disappears.  No thoughts, only oneness with the wave, the ocean, and all of life.  A perfect moment of union- the perfection of the wave- the perfection of the force that created it- and the perfect connection with myself.

When I come into shore a few people congratulate me on the ride.  I shrug it off with a meek smile and quick steps, taking no credit and giving no explanation for something I feel I didn’t have too much to do with.   

In the parking lot, feeling like a new person, a new life has began, I remember why I started surfing in the first place.  I have been drawn here.  God has called me to the ocean, and now I see I must honor that.  I must take it all- the highs and lows and see what this brings.  I must respect the ocean and the power it demonstrates.  I must never stop surfing.   

For some people, it’s on the edge of death we come closer to God.  For me it’s surfing, for you, I’m not sure.   It could be anything.  But, believe me, follow the thing you are drawn to- someday you will understand why.