M M Owen at Aeon Magazine:
The first time I ever caught an unbroken wave was one of the greatest moments of my life. The memory is crystalline, perfect: the glistening aquamarine curl extending away from me, the massive sky above; my orange foam board under the soles of my feet, and a feeling of sliding, slicing downward – feet like knives in those precious impossible seconds before the wave begins to break. The dismount was not elegant. Astonished at what I had just seen, where I had just been, I yelped and slapped the water. A couple of dog-walkers eyed me from the shore. Many hours of spluttering, messy effort to suddenly be so effortlessly, elegantly in tune with the shape of a wave. All the surfing I do from here on out will partly be in pursuit of this original sensation.
My ex-wife was a brilliant woman, decisive in a way I’m often not. I’d seen her ruthlessly cut old friends out of her life, old habits, old patterns. I never expected to be on the receiving end but, all of a sudden, on a winter evening in a cocktail bar in downtown Lisbon, there I was. What I thought was a crisis meeting was in fact a farewell.
more here.
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