By telling us your country of residence we are able to provide you with the most relevant travel insurance information.
Please note that not all content is translated or available to residents of all countries. Contact us for full details.
Shares
A few days ago I travelled to the wave in Bristol . An inland wave garden for surfers (or people that want to fall over a lot ). It wasn’t the sea , but I didn’t feel like driving so far . My spirit was just tired . I needed to forget everything, and trying not to die by drowning is a great way to do that . Pulling on my wetsuit was a feat of sheer determination in itself , as was getting it off post surf with frozen hands. I was evil Spider-Man pulling off his symbiote . I belly flopped onto my 8.6 board (that’s like the length of a bus ) and paddled My bus out to the break . Halfway to the break I felt exhausted, my arms clearly not used to this kind of effort but the promise of a wave kept me going . We lined up like planes waiting to take off, and then it was my turn . I fell into the icy water and it was at that moment , that everything disappeared . All of my sadness, worry ,anger ...oxygen... was replaced by one long internally monologued “fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck”. . For me , the sea has done more than any medicine or talk therapy . So.. A few days ago I travelled to the wave in Bristol . An inland wave garden for surfers (or people that want to fall a lot ). It wasn’t the sea , but I didn’t feel like driving so far . My spirit was just tired . I needed to forget everything, and trying not to die by drowning is a great way to do that . Pulling on my wetsuit was a feat of sheer determination in itself as was Getting it off post surf with frozen hands like evil Spider-Man pulling off his symbiote . I belly flopped onto my 8.6 board (that’s like the length of a bus ) and paddled out to the break . The break is at the apex of the wave garden , and it’s where the waves are generated by a large cylindrical metal drum. Halfway to the break I felt exhausted, my arms clearly not used to this kind of effort but the promise of a wave kept me going . We lined up like planes waiting to take off, and then it was my turn . Crashing and burning spectacularly, I fell into the icy water and it was at that moment , that everything disappeared . All of my sadness, every day worry ..oxygen... was replaced by one long internally monologued “fuuuuuuuudge!” I couldn’t breathe, I was under the water being rolled by a powerful wave that I had no control over . I didn’t know which way was up to even know how to start trying for the surface . You can struggle against it , but you’ll lose . You can’t be going picking fights with the power of the ocean and expect to win. Grief is like this . Grief is the ocean doing what it does , and you are there for the ride . Fight it , and you’ll exhaust yourself . Relax , and you’ll eventually resurface . I broke the surface and tried to gasp for air but my body was in shock from the cold and wouldn’t let me inhale . Suddenly everything I worry about on a daily basis , was simmered down to just the simplicity of breath . When I finally gasped that first mouthful of air in , I felt an immense sense of gratitude for just being able to breathe. The significance of everything else , : how will I pay my bills? , what will everyone think of me ? Am I good enough ? Will this sadness ever pass ? Am I a good mother ? ... paled in comparison to the ability to just breathe. This is the currency we can’t live without .