The Sunrise Effect

4am. Still dark, the alarm goes off and I immediately grab my phone, check the radar, and the wind. With a sliver of daylight peeking through the clouds, and finally a warm morning, I make my coffee and head to the lake.

I gear up and make my way down to the water in record time, greeted by the soft glow of the rising sun over the horizon behind me. As I paddle out, the wind begins to die and I am left floating with a heart racing, a wing way too small, and a beautiful sunrise about to peer over the trees.

Sitting out on the water alone, in the quiet, with nothing but waves lapping my board, I feel content. There is always a lull in the wind as the sun begins to rise over the horizon, and in the beauty and stillness, I have faith and patience it will return.

I call this the Sunrise Effect. The calm before the storm. The hill before the valley. The dark before the light. And if I wait long enough, embrace the present, feel it with all my being, I know deep down the daylight will show it’s face and lift me up.

And as the sun breaks the horizon, I notice ripples appearing on the water out in front of me, and if you know wind sports, you know those ripples mean hope. I crank my neck and watch, as they begin to build and move across the water towards me, and feel the wind fill my wing and lift me up! Suddenly those moments of quiet waiting are behind me, and I am gliding over the waves.

How is this not like life? The anticipation, disappointment, hope, perseverance, doubt. Braving the darkness, the quiet lonely landscape, the chilly water, the unknown. Sitting and questioning, unsure of the next moment, yet so sure of the now.

This sport was an uphill battle from the start, new to the wind, afraid of the water, at the time not knowing it would change my life. The experience of learning, falling, balancing, battling, swearing, and walks of shame (IYKYK) were preparing, hardening, filling me with the confidence I needed to keep going, not only on the water, but in life. I knew I could get through anything that stood in my way, frightened, or exhausted me.

And now every moment I am above the water, silently flying, feeling the foil under my feet, the wind filling my wing, the world stops and I am left with myself, and the waves. And I think how can I share this feeling? It seems selfish to keep it to myself.

So I urge you to go after the things that excite, and scare your pants off. Don’t just try once or twice, but fall and fall and fall again. Until you finally stay above the water, and feel the wind where no one else can <3