Stress Management: Surfing

Riding the wave is the art of living. Life is the wave—powerful, unpredictable, often indifferent to your plans. God hands you a surfboard. That’s it. The more desperately you try to balance, the quicker you fall. The bigger the wave, the greater the thrill… or the harder the crash.

When you learn to surf, you don’t start with thirty-footers. You begin with ripples. You keep your eyes on the horizon. You fall when you stare at your feet.

Right now, my toddler's biggest stress is putting the right shoe on the right foot and trying to comprehend why his parents don’t fulfill every request. (I’ve met plenty of adults who still have those as primary stressors.) These are small waves—important for learning, but not the stuff legends are made from. So I gently remind him: It’s my house, you pay no bills, you’re freeloading off us. If you want things your way, get a job—and if that’s still too limiting—start a business. He’s three years old.

We waste endless energy fighting the wave. Complaining that the water is cold. That someone else has better gear. That the surfer catching the biggest wave is just naturally gifted, ignoring the thousands of hours he spent paddling while we lounged on the shore.

Stop fighting the wave.

Cold water sucks. But staring at it instead of riding—even on the worst board—is worse. You're not too old or too young. People may tell you that you’re not suited for it. The wave doesn’t care; it belongs to all. Every time you paddle out, you risk something. You can eliminate risk entirely by never entering the water. Or you can live fully by entering it anyway.

Everyone fears the wave. Some because they respect it. Some because they don’t believe they can handle it. Respect shows up as cooperation, not combat.

Jim Wendler once said something profound: “I wish people would just lift weights for 10 years before asking me any questions.” Surfing is the same. Get in, stay in, experiment, fail, learn. Then ask better questions.

Want to get better at riding? Ride daily. Some days you suck. Some days you’re brilliant. You fall. You rise.

You might get hurt—ride the wave. 

You might look foolish—ride the wave. 

You might lose your shorts—ride the wave. 

People will judge you—ride the wave. 

Someone might steal your board—ride the wave. 

If you don’t even have a board—grab a rotting plank and ride the damn wave.

Once you start riding, you'll meet other surfers. You'll share what works. Some advice fits. Some doesn't. Not because they lied, but because bodies, seasons, and waves differ. People on the beach will call you weird. You'll look back and wonder why they stayed dry.

You’ll collect scars from coral reefs. And you’ll keep going.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

3 Bullet Point Summary

• Life is not about controlling the wave—but about entering it with commitment and consistency. Real progress comes from participation, not observation.

• Growth happens through repeated exposure to risk, failure, and adaptation. You learn more from daily effort than from overplanning or avoidance.

• Comparison and complaining are distractions from engagement. The cold water, lack of perfect gear, and judgments from the shore are excuses that keep people from living.

3 Practical Recommendations

1. Increase exposure to purposeful challenge. Choose a “wave” daily—something uncomfortable but aligned with your goals (e.g., cold plunge, hard conversation, workout, writing).

2. Stop analyzing prematurely. Commit to doing something for a defined period (e.g., 90 days of consistent lifting, writing, marketing, practicing) before seeking feedback or making big adjustments.

3. Build a tribe of surfers, not spectators. Spend more time around people who ride their waves and share scars rather than those who critique from dry land.