Why You Shouldn’t Go on Vacations

The thing about vacations is that at the end of it, you’ll start to hate why you even bothered to go on one in the first place. It’s that post-vacation depression that starts to consume you the moment you start packing your things up, saying goodbye to the new friends you’ve found and getting in that vehicle that will transport you away from the happy place you’ve called home for the past four days.

It’s only been one night since I arrived back in the city and every time I think of the mornings I spent watching the sun rise and set for the past four days, I get teary-eyed. I start to wonder why I can’t just spend the rest of my life living on the beach where everything seems to slow down and all you have to care about is the here and now. Will the surf be up tomorrow? If not, should we be doing yoga while the sun rises or should we sleep in longer to catch up on the lost sleep from the night’s stargazing session on the sand?

It all starts from the moment I arrive, You know, the all-too-familiar feeling of being all too excited to do every single thing you dreamed about doing for months? Yes, that’s what I felt since I decided to schedule this vacation. From the moment you take off your slippers and feel the velvety soft sand warm your toes as you run across the shore, to the rejuvenating splash as you dive into the unusually clear waters of the ocean – every single nerve in my body was tingling with life.

What was most exhilarating was the good news of surf. When your surf buddies release the words “Naay balod” (surf’s up!) the adrenaline starts pumping real bad. I run towards the hut grabbing the wax and doing a superhero move to change from land clothes to my surf costume. Every ounce of my body was shaking from excitement. I didn’t mind the 9-foot plus longboard I was carrying. I had to rush to the spot, the quicker I get there the more waves I can catch. After all, the waves don’t wait for anyone.

Carefully traipsing across the reef rocks, making sure I don’t cut myself, I get the leash on quick and jump on. Paddling out, I can’t help the looking at the bottom getting deeper. It is a bit scary not knowing what really lies underneath and what could probably jump out of the water any moment but those thoughts die a natural death when I see the waves breaking towards me. Paddling faster to avoid getting caught by the incoming wave, the excitement just grows ever stronger.

You know the lulls in between waiting for the sets to arrive? This has to be one of my favorites aside from actually riding the waves. That lull means I can catch my breath and watch my buddies paddle hard to catch the wave like nothing else mattered. That lull also means I can cheer for them when they finish that long ride. It also means I can sit on my board and look back to see a potential wave I can catch.

Lulls give me time to just thank God for the moment I am in. For the moment of being tossed by the waves and pulled under to the moment of breaking through the surface to breathe, pure gratitude and bliss was all I felt.

These brief escapes from reality tend to leave my heart longing for more of these escapes, which I probably won’t be having for a long time given the current circumstances that hound my professional life. Don’t get me wrong, I love my corporate life. It’s exciting and makes me feel like a legit adult. Although there’s always that part of me that longs to be part of the world that I loved ever since and that’s being one with the ocean, be it surfing or snorkeling or diving ever deeper until my breath stops me.

 

*Article originally appeared on my old blog, A Pink Banana, last Nov. 1, 2014.

Of Forgetting Sunscreens and Remembering

Gosh. I miss the ocean.

I miss falling asleep on a hot Sunday night, wishing I didn’t have to work on Monday. Wishing I could still surf when I woke up the next day. I miss having those sunburn hang-over moments when I would wake up and tell myself to never forget sunscreen ever again.

One week would pass by, I’d find myself surfing the weekends and waking up on Monday mornings realizing that I really should have placed sunscreen before surfing. And the cycle would begin every single weekend that I’d head to the beach to surf.

I have to admit though, I love my sunburnt skin. It reminds me of a hot summer’s day lazily lounging by the beach, waiting for the tide to turn in some great afternoon surf session. Every photograph would remind me of how my skin turned so dark – similar to how much I love the sea and her elements.

I never regretted everything I did just to be in the ocean. The sun, burning down on my back. The wind howling in my ear and the salty spray of the ocean’s mist on my face whenever I missed a good wave. Oh and that after-surf glow! I just adored that sun-kissed, orange glow that my cheeks would have after a whole sunny day of surf.

It’s been two years since my first date with a board and the waves. I don’t think I’ll ever stop being in love with the sea. Land affairs may have gotten a much higher priority than my carefree days being a weekend surfer but I will never forget the sea.

I have to return and when I get the soonest chance to, I’ll drown myself in that experience. Relive the memories in my mind for as long as I can and when I finally admit that I need to go back and create more memories, I’ll just go.

And maybe, one day, after a good surf session – tired and stoked. I’ll realize I won’t ever have to go away because home – the beach, is where I stay.

How Being Afraid Made All the Difference

 

I’ve been away for too long.

I hate to admit it but I ran away. I ran away from the things that I knew deep down that I loved the most. I hid from my words. I ran from the light. I didn’t know it then but I was trapped in the lies I made for myself.

I was afraid. I was afraid of really knowing what I was made of. Before one can know what one is made of, there are hurdles one has to pass. I was terrified of these. I was scared to death of rejection.