Hot yoga boy

Hot yoga boy

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@Goodgrateful: The moon room @Trilogysanctuary yoga studio. Our kind instructor closed this class with: “It’s not about becoming good or better in our practice. It’s about learning to be fully awake in each moment.” And such is with life.

The Magic of Living: Part 2

Part 2: How I’m Embracing, and Remaining My Inner “Yes Woman”

The waves were small and the water was chilly. The air was 50 degrees when my alarm went off at 7:20 a.m. I wanted so badly to snooze a little more until waking up to spend my day typing cover letters. But my surf partner and I went out into the ocean anyway.

And the universe rewarded us. Also playing in the small, friendly waves were none other than a pod of dolphins. After a solid five minutes of me slapping the water in disbelief, cupping my jaw-dropped face, paddling out closer to them, inquiring if their presence indicated that sharks were also around, whispering, “oh my god,” incessantly, and wondering why these so-called-waves had to be in my viewing way, I decided to do like my finned-friends and try and catch one, only to paddle back out and repeat the process.

I continued on this way for another 10 minutes. My poor surfing partner was probably experiencing his own disbelief in that someone could have such a reaction to a wild animal, but he tolerated it all the same.

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Post-surf photo from March 3, 2017 shred session.

There were few others in the water to witness my enamor and accept the sea’s smaller feat, but after the dolphins left, one nearby surfer caught my eye. He was seasoned, with a white beard, turquoise eyes and tan, weathered skin. He paddled on his long board only on his knees and pursued each small but promising curl in the same manner he would have as if it was the biggest wave he’d ever seen. He reminded me of my father.

After a few catches and misses, I called over to him.

“That’s quite the paddle, I’m not sure I’m there just yet.”

The man laughed and told me it took years of practice. “You should turn next time,” he told me, in regards to my last attempted ride.

I learned that while a self-proclaimed surf-bum now, he was also an avid skier and climber in his years, and had worked as a guide in Switzerland, set rock-problems all around the U.S. while living out of a van for two years, has his Masters in Chemistry, was diagnosed with prostate cancer and now has it under control and spends his time living in San Diego funded by his work as a researcher and online course professor at Vanderbilt University.

I looked at my new friend in awe. “Well, I’m 23, I just moved here, I have a degree and no job at the moment. What advice do you have for me?”

Darrel looked back at me and though beginning with, “I’m not sure I’m good for dishing out advice…,” he continued, letting the gentle ocean-waves wash over his surfboard and nostalgia-waves wash over his memories.

“Don’t get into debt,” he said after a moment. “Don’t fall for the illusion of things. Don’t spend your money on a big, fancy car… You don’t need stuff. I had a fancy home and things all back in Nashville. I even have a closet of fancy things here that I never look in. I don’t miss it.”

A wave rolls by.

“Do it while you’re young. Be good to your body. Don’t drink hard alcohol, it takes a toll. If you want to have a beer every once in a while, all right. If you want to get high, smoke weed. But don’t smoke it, bake it. Bad carcinogens.”

We float over another set of baby ocean-movements.

“Get a lot of skin.”

“As in tough skin?” I interjected, in due parts because I’m soft as a flower petal and because I wasn’t sure that’s really what he meant.

“No. You know,” patting his wetsuitted-arms, “affection, touch, love. That’s science…

And if you don’t like something, don’t do it.

“And this.” He looked at the water around him and ahead of him. “Do more of this.”

And whether he had more to share or felt he was done, I’ll never know. Because my transfixed state broke when Darrell spun around faster than I might ever be able to to catch the wave that was upon us. I made it over and looked back to see if he had caught it. He must’ve, I thought, going after it with the same energy of a pro at Maverick’s.

But he hadn’t. And it didn’t make a difference to him, because he was already on his knees paddling back out to catch another.

He didn’t need to put that last lesson into words after all: go after life like you want it badly. Go after it with full force. Pursue it and lean into it wildly. And if you miss? Get up and try again.

So living my new life in San Diego, I will go outside. I will walk around alone. I’ll look up. Smile at people. Make eye contact. Engage in conversation. Say “hi” to strangers. Accept invitations. Invite people.

I will say yes. Say yes to life. Because when you start saying yes to life, life starts saying yes to you.

And just like that: magic had happened.

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San Diego sunset March 1, 2017.
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San Diego sunset March 2, 2017.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Be sure to check out the prequel to this piece– Part 1: How I Found My Inner Yes Woman.

The Magic of Living: Part 1

 

Part 1: How I Found My Inner “Yes Woman”

This is how magic happens:

Spontaneously. Unplanned. Unexpected. Without searching for it.

Since uprooting across the country to San Diego on my own, I have expanded healthily into my personal courageous form of “yes woman.” I suppose we could reference the Hollywood film involving Jim Carey, but I’m not too exposed to pop-culture in that sense (though I do love Drake, some tropical house music and Game of Thrones) and I thoroughly enjoy molding my own, experiential meaning into things.

“Yes woman” is a form I have embodied wholly in my young adult life just once before. I was reaching the conclusion of a 4-month South American backpacking journey with my adventure-partner when it was time for our paths to part: he returned home, I went on alone to Brazil.

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Wandering the boardwalk in Rio de Janeiro.

It was my first time traveling alone internationally, and while Brazil was the country I had been subconsciously journeying toward, it was a complete surprise and self-learning moment on Copacabana Beach in Rio de Janeiro when I burst-morphed unexpectedly and excitedly into this mentality and state of being.

It was a spontaneous and eye-opening moment of lying on the beach in the city that I had always dreamed of visiting and the revelation that I was indeed looking at the small ocean-islands of vegetation, the inland hill-mounds hosting favelas, a boardwalk of sun-kissed, active sunbathers, and Brazilian vendors selling bathing suits, Caipirinha’s and crawfish. I had done it.

 

And I decided in that very moment, in utter joy, that I was going to do everything. Try everything. Taste everything. I was going to dive into my experience and live it fully. Granted, my day did end in a tourist police station with the Brazilian cop ordering me dinner, but that’s a story for another time.

Morphing into one’s version of “yes person” usually occurs when one realizes and accepts that they know nothing. One who has lost sight of, discarded, and removed oneself from everything that is familiar and close to them. Every direction is equally the “right” direction to take, because one has no destination, and nothing will leave one any worse off because one just doesn’t know any different. One no longer has the comfort and luxury of knowing. And that is when the magic happens. The magic of not knowing, of trusting and of welcoming. The magic that can never be planned.

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@Goodgrateful: The view from Sugarloaf at sunset.

 
Now, let me disclaim here, for the sanity of my parents and others who care about my well-being, to enter a state of “yes woman,” or “yes person,” means accepting every opportunity that comes, within one’s own safety. It requires a great deal of courage and flexibility, but even more-so, self-awareness, the willingness, ability and practice of self-exploration and knowing and setting personal boundaries.

Alas, in this Sun Diegan stage of my life, I am once again, “yes woman.” So when I received an invite to surf this morning after having planned to apply to 1,023 jobs, I said yes. To justify this, I determined that I would start my morning earlier, healthier and more clear-minded if I allowed the ocean to humble me. And I did. And it did.

And that was when the magic happened.

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@Goodgrateful: Iguazu Falls in Brazil, looking into Argentina.

 

Stay tuned for Part 2, coming soon!

 

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