Welcome to the first official exclusive post of The Unfamiliar Movement Project, where I’ll be sharing my journey exclusively with my subscribers! If you’re reading this, you’ve signed up to support me as a writer, so thank you :) more exciting things are coming as I become more technologically literate!
If you’re new here, I’d recommend that you go back and read last week’s installment, Introducing The Unfamiliar Movement Project before you continue. This is meant to be a linear story, where you can follow along each week!
To summarize last week’s post:
I’ve had a miserable year, like most of the humans on the planet. Seeking healing, I stumbled on Bessel Van Der Kolk’s The Body Keeps The Score. In it, he says that humans can heal trauma through movements like yoga and performance.
I decided to travel to Central America and heal by learning unfamiliar movements. If you’d like to see the full list I’ve chosen, visit last week’s post!
Surfing Week 1
I’ve wanted to be good at surfing since I lived in Australia. I never invested the time or money, and I’ve always regretted it. In the entire year I lived there, an inexperienced friend and I went once, on cheap foam boards, in water we had no business being in. I’m just happy that I wasn’t injured.
Nothing boosts mental health like conquering and overcoming regret, so I decided to study surfing as my first movement in Costa Rica, booking a three-week session in a surf/Spanish camp called School of The World (I give it eight hundred and a half billion out of ten stars if you’re thinking of booking a similar adventure).
Like most things worth doing, surfing has a steep learning curve. It’s like skating or snowboarding, with the added challenge that the ground you’re riding on is constantly moving (bonus: falling into water is much more lovely than falling on concrete or hard-packed snow).
When I first hopped on the board, things were NOT pretty:
The powerful, meditative, and frustrating fact of surfing is that your sessions will never be what you want them to be. You can’t build a perfect ramp to ride, as you can in other boardsports. You get what comes to you. All you can control and improve on is your balance and technique.
Because of the necessary acceptance of uncontrollability and constant need to focus, surfing is being recognized and used as a treatment for PTSD. Quoting from SurfingToday’s surf therapy article:
“The focus required to surf, combined with the adrenaline rush, helps to promote a sense of mental and physical well-being.
Many studies have confirmed the benefits of exercise in promoting self-confidence, the mind’s ability to cope with stress and alleviate anxiety.
Additionally, dopamine promotes a sense of well-being that counters the distress experienced by people struggling with various forms of addiction.
This makes it [surfing] ideal for addressing mental health conditions, alcoholism, and substance abuse.”
I came to Costa Rica because I knew I was suffering from the accumulated trauma of the last year, as so many of us are. Through my own experience and conversations with my fellow surf-camp-ers, I’ve seen that surfing has incredible transformational power.
One of the women who was staying here last week told me that the frustrations she experienced in her first week brought up a tremendous amount of personal angst, to the point that she got out of the water one day and threw rocks around on the beach. As she got back in and improved wave by wave, she was able to move past the anger and hatred she’s been carrying for years.
In her words:
“After two weeks of being in the water, when I started catching waves more consistently and having fun, I’d get out of the water and realize that, for the first time in years, the hate I’ve felt for the people who have hurt me isn’t there.”
I’m not at her level of consistent fun yet, but I can see why this sport has healing power.
As someone who’s snowboarded for years, I love to ride at the edges of the runs where it’s rough, hitting the snow bumps that people leave behind, catching small bits of air. At that moment of takeoff, my mind (that hasn’t ceased moving at warp speed since about 1996) stops. I get to take a small moment of rest.
Surfing is that feeling, for hours. You can’t bring your phone, because it will be lost or destroyed. The ocean is boiling, shifting under you. Waves are always coming. Changes are happening at lightning speed. Your body is sore from the constant paddling. There’s no bloody time for anxiety and depression.
Fall, fall, fall, feel
After a day of whitewater and a day of falling and wobbling, I was able to start standing up on waves, which, in terms of great feelings in my life, is ranked right up there with losing my virginity and learning to swing dance.
With two weeks left of this, I know I’m on the verge of something big.
Thank you so much for tuning in this week, and supporting The Well-Lived Life. You’re the reason this blog is able to keep going! If you’re enjoying The Unfamiliar Movement Project, please tell a friend!
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