This is a little musing on mindset and surfing, hope you enjoy!

Surfing is a big industry and Southern California is at the centre of it. When Gidget first blew up surf spots around the world with the commercial idea of surfing; the first place she ‘Gidged’ was Malibu, just a short drive from the metropolis of Los Angeles, a city with a population of over 12 million people today.

I’ve spent a bit of time surfing the Californian coastline, from San Diego to the Central Coast. It’s beautiful. Long period swells groomed by predictable wind patterns find their way into corners of the coastline, focussing on high quality beach breaks and long points. There are waves for every ability and taste. The culture runs strong, the history deep.

But the crowds; the crowds can be out of control.

One section of the lineup, this was repeated for 100m down the point.

It got me thinking about mindset and our approach to surfing. From spending time in California and surfing with Californians; some similarities in perspective between fishing and surfing started to appear. In fishing, catching a fish is the objective. But ‘fishing’ is the activity. The ritual; the time carved out for ones self. The venture into nature; the quiet, the places. As Thoreau said, "Many Men (ahem, Henry...) go fishing all of their lives without knowing that it is not fish they are after".

With an 18 second period, lulls can be long and lineup has a chance to reset and everyone get back in position.

A salmon fishing trip to Scotland or Norway often might not result in a salmon; but it will likely result in beautiful scenery, peace, quiet, adventure, discovery, time for thought, learning. Casting a rod into a cold, fresh river is a form of meditation in itself. A fish is a rush; an appreciation for a species researched and respected. An accomplishment, an achievement, a battle won and nature decoded.

Surfing in California or other busy places is like that. Leaning on the wall at Malibu is leaning on our cultural history. Riding a wave at San Onofre is to slide across the same reef that our icons in history have slid for decades before us; where culture was formed, style was invented and evolved. Where lives were changed forever. Hiking the trail to Trestles is to follow the footsteps of our cultures greats, to experience the same feeling that formed the identity of the pursuit we love so much. Sitting in the line-up at Swamis; watching the same Pelicans glide the same wave faces that are the roads that led us to where we are as surfers today.

90 years of surfers being greeted by the same stretch of cobblestone point. Careers built, lives changed, experiences lived.

The ritual of pulling up, suiting up, hiking down, descending the cliff stairs. A wave itself is a gift, the cherry on top of the act of ‘going’ surfing. Surfing can be frustrating. A bad session is evidence that surfing is not purely a physical pursuit, but a mental one too. A good session hard evidence of that too. But each time we surf; successfully or not, we have carved out time for ourselves; we have connected with our environment, we have undoubtedly learned something.

I think if sometimes we give ourselves a break and see surfing more like fishing; the catching of the wave objective, but not the sole intention, we can start to see surfing for what it is. I paddled out at a Los Angeles County wave on a good winter swell and sat shoulder to shoulder with surfers this morning. There were many more surfers than there were waves. The way the light danced on the dawn glass was beautiful. The excitement was palpable. Anticipation high. The Pelicans weren't privvy to the fact Surfline called it as 'Fair to Good'; they soar regardless. The Sunrise didn't care about the light offshore breeze. They were beautiful regardless of the crowd sitting tightly packed, fishing for their wave.

Had I not paddled out, I wouldn’t have experienced the sunrise over Santa Monica like this.

This morning I got lucky; I got a bite. One came to me and nobody else and I was ready. I slid down the face of the wave and weaved my way through the crowd until the point opened up and I surfed cautiously, knowing that I might not catch another, as far as that wave would take me. It was beautiful and over hot coffee after the session, I felt gratitude. I was one of the lucky ones; there were many amongst the crowd who didn't get to experience a wave themselves, or at least perhaps not to themselves.

Once the crowd was navigated, this wall opened up and ran down the point. Forever committed to memory.

With luck on my side, I committed to casting my line at Rincon, see if I could snag a bigger one, a longer one, one with more cultural weight that the first. It was big, wild, busy. A change from my last Rincon session eight years ago. No luck. I took one smaller inside wave and I blew my chance at a set wave; the pressure got to me, the physical and the mental were at odds with each other. My loss was no doubt someone else's gain a little further down the point. English poet Ted Hughes described fishing in a way that resonates with me as a surfer; "Fishing provides that connection with the whole living world. It gives you the opportunity of being totally immersed, turning back into yourself in a good way." Many quotes on fishing hold relevance to the world of surfing.

If every time we go out, we see surfing as the activity and riding a wave as the objective, we may not forget to appreciate the act of going surfing with less pressure on ourselves. We ritualise surfing, from checking the forecast, the tides, to building expectations, to packing our equipment, driving or walking to the spot, spotting the other surfers, mind surfing, suiting up, the flask of coffee, the paddle out. Rarely are we surfing outside of our natural environment; and if we are surfing in an urban environment, we are seeing our environment from a new perspective every time; we are connected to nature, immersed.

Technically my wave but if I’d have gone, it was clear what would have happened. A bite, but not a worthy fish.

As landscapes change, seascapes have remained the same for eternity. The gift this connection gives us is worth the effort; laying into a cutback or curling toes over the nose are an opportunity that we should never take for granted; the hours of connection with the natural world that have led us to the point where we can manipulate the energy given to us by the sea has the potential to change every singe one of us deeply.

So when that frustration kicks in, when the physical act of wave riding affects the mental act of natural immersion, we should try our hardest to take the lessons of fishing and see our pursuit as a bestowal; surfing as the journey, not always the destination.

Some spots are more fruitful and less demanding than others.

If we surf to connect, to attempt to decode nature, to be open to the transfer of energy from the sea to ourselves, to carve ourselves out some personal time then surfing is a form of therapy, of meditation, medicine.

Frustration is the opposite of this. Pressure on ourselves, others and the natural phenomenon we are trying to harness then we run the risk of not seeing the wood for the trees.

So, let’s aim to ride waves, let’s hope to slide across beautiful faces and to feel in tune with our bodies and our minds. Let’s hack, slash, rip and charge if that’s the medicine we need; but let’s remember, and I certainly at times need to remind myself, that in those times of frustration that any time spent in the sea is a gift worth appreciating.

Mindset - Surfing and Fishing