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Musings on Connection, Choice, and the Life We Choose to Live

12 Sept

I had some “dolce far niente” time at the airport yesterday and was reflecting on connection.

It started with thinking about dancing.

I recently began dancing Forró, and I noticed that many kinds of connection can exist between two people within the space of a dance.

The dance may be fun and imaginative, and the bond can arise from the enjoyment both people find in it. It can be the closeness that comes about from being physically near. It can be a song I particularly like, and in some way dancing to it with a certain person has a wonderfully flowy feeling. It might even come down to something as simple as a person’s smile or their joy in dancing.

And then the song ends.

You thank one another and then leave. You might dance again or you might not. But the connection in that moment was genuine.

And that made me wonder: What exactly am I connecting to?

Because I started to feel there is a distinction between connecting with a person and connecting through an experience.

I can have a beautiful dance with somebody that I only just met. I can still experience intimacy, trust, playfulness, or a sense of flow with them. Yet I don’t really know who they are. I don’t know how they behave when difficulties arise. I don’t know their values, their history, their fears and joys, or the hundreds of little things that make them who they are.

That feels very different from the connection I have with the people I truly love — such as my partner, my family, and my close friends. With them, it isn’t only about how I feel in a particular moment. I love them. Their personality, their character, their soul, or whatever we want to call the particular thing that makes a person who they are.

So maybe some connections focus mostly on the person, while others center on the shared experience between two people.

One is no less real than the other. To me, that final point seems important.

A short dance isn’t automatically superficial just because it lasts a few minutes. I don’t have to know the person well for the connection in that moment to have been real. Nor do I have to make it last forever to show it mattered.

That insight also made me think about attraction differently.

Sometimes I feel drawn to someone, and I’ve started wondering:

Is it really the person?

Or is it the kind of experience I connect with them?

Maybe someone makes me feel playful or sensual or adventurous or desired or feminine or free, or they stir up a certain kind of aliveness in me. And because they seem to be the source of that feeling, it is easy to think:

I want this person.

But what if sometimes what I really mean is:

I would like to experience this sort of feeling more.

Or even:

I would like to have greater access to this part of myself.

I really like that question since it doesn’t diminish the reality of the attraction; it only makes me more curious about what is actually happening.

Forró has turned out to be a rather good place for me to explore this. With one person I can feel a sense of closeness, with another a ridiculous playfulness, and with yet another a beautiful musical flow—and then I can go home perfectly happy, without any of those moments needing to develop into something more.

For context, my boyfriend and I are in an open relationship. That isn’t really what this piece is about, but it matters here because sometimes I have felt the desire for experiences outside my relationship.

Since I started dancing, that desire has shifted.

And that surprised me.

Not because anything about my relationship or my views on openness fundamentally changed. I simply started wondering whether I had misunderstood what I was looking for.

Maybe it wasn’t necessarily another person, or even the physical experience itself.

Maybe part of what I was craving was simply the experience of feeling connected.

Perhaps in certain instances I have been seeking a variety of people whereas what I really wanted was a variety of experiences.

Or, even more simply:

Maybe I just want more ways of being alive.

 

MORE WAYS OF BEING ALIVE

I know that I am an experience-oriented person. Experiences make me happy. I have understood that about myself for a long time.

And it shows a lot in the way I live.

I travel, I go surfing, and I change jobs and businesses. I love to spend time with my family and friends.

Some of my friends are spread all over the world, and I might see some of them once every year while others perhaps only once every five years. Yet whenever we meet again, I feel extremely happy that this person is part of my life.

For me, continuity does not have to be the criterion of importance.

Something doesn’t have to last forever, or even be present in my everyday life, to matter.

Perhaps meaning can build up in various ways.

For some people, it might build up through continuity—such as staying in the same place, having long-standing relationships, pursuing a career over many decades, and knowing a community well.

For me, much of my meaning comes from experiencing various places, people, projects, cultures, adventures, and versions of myself.

In my opinion, neither appears more profound.

They are simply different ways of experiencing a life.

And perhaps that is why I like the idea that I don’t have to possess an experience for it to count.

There is no need for me to turn a beautiful dance into a phone number.

Or to turn chemistry into something more.

I don’t need to turn friendship into one of constant contact.

Or to turn a wonderful place into a permanent home.

I can fully experience something and still let it come to an end.

Somehow these thoughts led me away from dancing entirely and into a question I’ve thought about many times before:

How do we decide what life to live?

I know some people—and I can say that I’ve experienced it too—who ask, „Where should I live? What should I do? Which life is the right one?“

Someone might be living in Portugal and wondering whether Portugal is really THE place. Or if it’s Bali, or somewhere else.

And I started thinking: maybe the question itself makes things unnecessarily difficult.

Rather than asking myself, „Is this the place where I should live?“, what if I instead asked:

What actual value does this place offer me?

Can I do the things I love here?

Are there people I connect with?

Can I do work that matters to me?

Which of my needs and values does this place meet?

Which doesn’t it meet?

And am I okay with that?

All places have advantages and disadvantages, and so do all jobs, lifestyles, and relationships.

There is probably no configuration in which everything lines up perfectly.

Freedom may clash with security. Adventure may clash with stability. Novelty may clash with continuity. Living near the ocean could mean that I end up farther from the people I love.

A good decision may not eliminate all of those tensions.

Maybe it is one where I understand the trade-offs and can say:

Yes. Those are the ones I am willing to live with.

It’s not something new to me. I haven’t expected certainty from life for a long time, and I know I can’t know whether a choice will still be right in five or ten years.

But something about this exploration made me see the implications more clearly.

If I accept that I cannot have certainty, why keep asking my choices to prove themselves as if I could?

Why ask:

Is this the right place?

When perhaps the more useful question is:

Can I make a choice about this now since there is enough that is important to me?

Not „enough“ in the sense of settling.

Or: Well, I suppose this will do.

But something more deliberate:

This gives me much of what I deeply value, though it has some limitations. I am aware of them, and knowing that, I still choose it.

And then I live what I chose.

Because there is a difference between endlessly evaluating a life and participating in one.

 

THE UNFAIR ADVANTAGE OF THE UNLIVED LIFE

There will almost always be some other option.

Another country.

Another job.

Another way of structuring my life.

Another person.

And some of those alternatives would probably be better in some aspect.

Eight billion people live in this world. Of course there is someone somewhere with whom I could also fall deeply in love. Maybe someone would be more compatible with me in one way, more exciting in another, and share another interest.

But I’ve started to feel that this is simply not a very interesting question anymore.

Because I can never compare my actual life with those other hypothetical lives.

The only thing I can do is to compare reality with imagination. And imaginary lives have a very unfair advantage:

They don’t have inconveniences yet.

The hypothetical place is free from annoying bureaucracy, the hypothetical career hasn’t become repetitive, the hypothetical relationship hasn’t experienced its first major conflict, and the person with whom I haven’t built a life doesn’t include ordinary Tuesday mornings, misunderstandings, bad moods, incompatible needs and years of accumulated complexity.

Possibility is frictionless.

Reality isn’t.

Maybe there is a stage at which keeping on asking ‚Could there be something better?‘ doesn’t make us more discerning.

It just keeps us looking.

This idea has taken on special significance for me in the context of my relationship.

Not because I suddenly discovered that commitment doesn’t require certainty. I’ve believed that for a long time. But because I realized something slightly different:

I don’t need to know whether there is a better relationship somewhere in the world to participate in the one I have fully.

There is no need for me to prove that my boyfriend is the best possible person for me among the eight billion people.

It is anyway an impossible comparison.

I can ask something much more real:

Given the way I know this person, given the relationship that exists between us, do I really want to be here?

And yes.

Very much.

There’s a pleasant sense of liberation in that.

Instead of scanning an imaginary horizon, I can look at the person in front of me.

Who is he?

What is it about him that I love?

What exists between us?

What can I give him?

What can we still create and experience together?

And perhaps choosing someone is partly what allows a relationship to become what it can become.

Because a relationship isn’t something I can only stand outside of and evaluate. I am part of it. What I bring to it changes it.

There is a difference between asking whether I have found a good relationship and participating in creating one.

Strangely, the various thoughts I’ve had about connecting with other people have made me feel closer to my boyfriend than farther away.

I find that fascinating.

Forró has shown me that connections can be very plentiful; I can experience intimacy, playfulness, joy, or a sense of flow with different people.

Rather than making my relationship feel less special, it has helped me understand more clearly what makes it special.

A beautiful connection with someone else might say:

Spending this moment with you is beautiful.

But with my boyfriend, it’s different.

I know him.

I love him for who he is.

We have a history, trust, affection, attraction, knowledge of one another, shared memories, private meanings, and this particular world we have created together.

Another person might give me another beautiful experience.

But they aren’t him.

And somehow I don’t need him to be the only person with whom I can experience connection for that to be true.

In fact, knowing that connection is possible elsewhere may make the choice more meaningful.

I don’t choose you because you’re the only person with whom connection is possible.

I choose you knowing that connection is possible everywhere.

 

MY MOUNTAIN

One more image stayed with me: A while ago, I had an interesting conversation with someone, and he talked about his wife and his child, calling them his mountains.

He said he loves his mountains and to come back to them.

I liked that immediately, because I already thought of my boyfriend as my rock — as something steady in my life, a safe place, a center from which I can venture out and explore.

But somehow the image of the mountain put that feeling into words even better.

A mountain is solid. It is always there, and you can orient yourself by it. And you don’t have to spend your whole life sitting on it, and it will still be your mountain.

You can travel far away, explore completely different landscapes, and experience all kinds of things elsewhere.

It remains your mountain.

That is very much how I experience my relationship. My boyfriend is my rock, my mountain and my safe place. A point from which a whole life may unfold. This is perhaps especially meaningful to me because I value freedom, movement, and exploration so much.

It’s easy to see rootedness and freedom as opposites. Yet I do not see them that way. If anything, that center lets me venture out more freely.

I can travel, surf, dance, meet people, and have friends all over the world. I can try new things, change jobs, explore places, and experience versions of myself.

All of this because I know where my mountain, my center, is.

There is an important difference between a boundary and a center.

A boundary says:

This is how far you can go.

A center says:

This is the place where I consider myself to belong.

And all of a sudden what might appear contradictory from the outside — a desire for both a deep partnership and a great deal of freedom — no longer seems contradictory to me.

And there are different kinds of freedom.

There is:

I am free because nothing holds me.

And then there is another kind that resonates with me much more:

I am free because I know what holds me.

Not holds me in the sense of restricting me.

Holds me as in supports me.

And maybe that is where all these thoughts have taken me.

At first, I wondered why it might sometimes feel so intimate to dance with someone I hardly know.

Then I wondered whether connection is always a matter of the individuals involved, or whether it can sometimes be about what happens between them in a particular moment.

This made me think about whether attraction is always about wanting someone, or whether sometimes we actually want the feeling, the experience, the part of ourselves that comes alive in their presence.

And from there the question became much bigger, venturing into life:

How often do we confuse the thing we believe we want with what we really hope to experience through it?

A person.

A place.

A job.

A lifestyle.

The more clearly I understand the things which make me feel alive and those values which are important to me, the less I shall need life to provide a single perfect answer.

I can choose, and I can experience.

I can let some things be temporary without making them meaningless, and I can let other things become solidly anchored without asking them to contain every possible experience.

I can be fully somewhere without declaring it as my forever home.

And I can love someone wholeheartedly without needing to prove that no other beautiful possibility exists.

A meaningful life might not be one in which we finally find THE person, THE place, THE career or THE configuration that makes us stop wondering forever.

But it could be a life in which we understand what matters to us well enough to choose, and then allow ourselves actually to be where we have chosen to be.

For me, at least, that means having a center while also living out a very large life around it.

I do not choose my partner because he is the only person with whom connection is possible.

I choose him because I love who he is.

He is the relationship I want to fully participate in. My rock. My mountain. The center from which I want to venture out and experience all the other ways of being alive.

My commitment to him doesn’t make my world smaller.

It gives me a place from which my world can become very large.

And those were my musings about connection… What the mind does when it gets some free time 😉

A normal Saturday of a 30+

8 Dez

Yesterday was Saturday. Off work. A perfect day to do plenty of things. Such were my thoughts.

So I went to Surfari Fashion Store in Zurich to meet up with some friends, planned to do some candle dipping (didn’t manage) and some serious tea-rum drinking (managed 2 cups only, fortunately, I have to say).

As I was sitting on a bottle crate talking to a friend, a guy entered the shop, in desperate need of a toilet: Can I PLEEEEAAAASE use the loo? he asked in a pressed voice. Yes he could. He was gone for quiet a while. When he came back, I asked him, if he had a good time at the loo. He laughed and answered: That was a loooooooong shit. And went outside, dedicating himself to some more and very serious candle dipping.

I was delighted by his brashness and joined him outside to observe his candle making skills. Turned out he was a crazy (and very drunk), but absolutely hilarious South African dude working and living in Zurich, coming from a beer drinking marathon and actually on the way to watch a soccer game. FCZ. Or something like that. Anyway, he got caught up with the candles in between and found it fascinating.

As soon as he was done, he smiled at everyone, smiled some more, said thousands thanks and happily dashed off to pursue his original plan of watching the soccer game.

At that point I just thought: I love Zurich.

Next stop was my friends place. We planned to cook some green thai curry and then go for pre-party drinks and then go to a party nearby – called Glitter Gwitter – or freely translated into English: Glitter Storm.

We managed the dinner part, then started talking and talking and talking until it was too late for pre-party-drinks. Suddenly we both started yawning and yawning and yawning and questioned our plan to go out dancing. Really? I mean, REALLY? It was just midnight and we were talking of just going to sleep.

How old are we? Freaking young 31. What the hell? But still, we couldn’t stop yawning. The solution? We put two papers (party time or bed time) into a pot. I picked a paper and it was PARTYTIME!

So we felt ready to go out and party hard …. for exactly 5 minutes …. then the yawning started again.

Ok, we’re old. Defeated.

We talked some more and decided to go to bed in spite of the paper saying loud and clear that we should be out and about.

I left and wanted to take the night bus. Would be 30 min home. I waited. The bus came. I asked the bus driver if he drives to Bellevue. He pondered my question a few seconds and said yes. So we drove and drove and drove and Bellevue was nowhere to be seen. But Schlieren, a suburb of Zurich.

Asked the driver why he told me that he was driving to Bellevue when he was not? He just smiled and said: I do, it’s the final destination in the other direction. Relax and enjoy the free tour around Zurich.

Ahhhh, very funny. Did I already mention I was dead-tired? Well, I managed to get home with a 45 minute delay and fell asleep right away.

Woke up at 9 am. Felt very hungover. In spite of only 2 small cups of tea rum somewhen during the previous afternoon. REALLY?

Oh well, as I said, definitely getting old…

you and me

25 Nov

you and me
are meant to be free
free together
together free

you and me
traveling and free
but linked together
together wherever

you and me
our minds so free
free to be
whatever whenever

you and me.
together.
free.

Written today by me at my lunch break in my office on a sunny winter day in Zurich. For T.T.

The most popular word in Bali…

24 Nov

A friend of mine asked for help on facebook. He wanted to know which of the below mentioned words is the most popular in Bali these days:

A) Mahal (expensive) or B) Habis (out of stock, or, as the Indonesians say: We don’t have…)

The answers were hilarious, so many words I remember from my travels and I can tell you: You hear them a million times every day! They so reflect a big part of their culture and they’re thinking. It’s typical for Asians (I know, I’m half Asian myself). If not today, then some other time. And anyway, there’s no rush and ANYWAY, I don’t know AND ANYWAY, TOMORROW’S ANOTHER DAY! Don’t worry, be happy and take it easy.

And thus, foreigners who live and work in Bali might get a hysterical fit if they hear those words one more time unless they adopted the Asian easy going way of thinking, which by the way, can be strenuous but let’s be honest: It does good to most Westeners to let go a bit and see life from a brighter and happier side! AND TO BE MORE PATIENT! (I can say that, I never had to work with Balinese together as an employer, so I can say crap like that, hahahaha).

So, here’s a little list of words, you can see where it goes:

Tidak tahu (I don’t know)
Belum (not yet)
Mungking (maybe)
Tidak bisa (not possible, can’t do it)
Kosong (which is the same as „habis“ – out of stock)
Lupa (forgot)
Tungu Tungu (wait wait as in please be patient)
Tidak boleh (not allowed as in not possible or you can’t do it)
Maaf (sorry)
Besok (tomorrow)

Ohhhhhhh gitu (ahhhhhhh it’s like that) (accompanied by a vigorous nod of the head)

Habis pak, maaf, coba besok mungkin (It’s out of stock Sir, sorry, maybe you try it again tomorrow?)

Infinity or a grain of sand in the desert…

10 Nov

Sometimes, I try to understand how big the universe is. Or how vast the ocean. things like that. I try, my mind very still, just try to FEEL that incomprehensible bigness of everything. Of course, I don’t manage to understand. But I do get a (very) brief glimpse of it. It’s a very overwhelming feeling to be on the brink of understanding, you know the understanding is there, but you just can’t grab it. Same if you try to imagine „infinity“. You try not to think of any kind of a border, impossible.

One time I was surfing alone at a beach in Bali. Just me and the ocean. And as I was sitting there in the water, a storm was brewing, the sky heavy and grey, the water unruly I felt so brutally tiny, like a grain of sand in the desert. And the vastness, the weight of the water, the whole ocean pressed down on me. I lasted half an hour then that feeling just got too much to bear…

And then, sometimes, when I’m surrounded by thousands of people in the city, or when I’m walking through a deserted neighborhood, I try to imagine all those peoples lifes at once. Millions of different stories, different fates, emotions… Again, just impossible.

But I just like doing that.Image

Random conversations…

3 Nov

I eavesdropped this conversation a while ago when i was sitting in a tram in Zurich, staring out of the window. A woman behind me said to another woman sitting opposite to her: „I REALLY don’t understand WHY people have a dog when they already have a child. It’s not necessary to have a dog when you already have a child. I DON’T have children, THAT’s WHY I chose to have a dog.“ … She really meant that. That was a serious conversation.

I think, I don’t have to say anything more to that. I still can’t believe that conversation really happened… hahahaha… oh well…

Inspiring people I’ve met in Bali

27 Aug

There’s loads of inspiring people I’ve met in Bali – or – in one case – haven’t met at all but heard just awesome feedback. So I’d like to share those so you can meet them as well!

Teddy Sun – http://www.lightthepathyoga.com/ He’s teaching Yoga classes in the South of Bali in a very beautiful open space overlooking the Bukit. He’s also teaching personal classes. Not only is he a great teacher, he’s also just super awesome, very down to earth, very warmhearted!

Steve – http://www.baliprivateyoga.com/ He’s teaching private Yoga classes an doing Yoga retreats in Bali as well as in New Zealand. He’s a very mellow and enthusiastic person. Had super cool conversations with him. Get yourself in Yoga-shape with Steve!

Paul Dumais – A Surfer, Qi-Gong-Teacher and one of the most vibrant person I’ve ever met so far. He’s truly inspiring. Always up for some good fun and a hearty laugh! Based in Byron Bay, Australia, he lives in Bali for a few months every year. You can probably reach him through the following facebook event page to get up to date about his Qi Gong classes  (if not, just message me and I’ll send you his contact): https://www.facebook.com/events/538379716198675/

Tom Cronin – a meditation teacher – http://tomcronin.com/ He approached me in a restaurant where we were eating at the same time because he saw me in a shop the other day. Wasn’t really in the mood for talking to a stranger, but then, something about him made me go back to his table. A very good decision indeed. He’s a very caring person, full of positive energy. He’s based in Sydney, Australia but also teaches and speaks on retreats in Bali.

Rick Cowley – http://www.surflifewith.us – Never met him personally. But his a good friend of Paul Dumais (the Qi Gong Teacher) and so I found the Facebookpage and Website of Surf Life. From what I’ve heard, his retreats are life changing. He posted some photos with guest feedbacks. This is my favorite:

Image

Danny Clayton – A Kiwi-Girl and founder of Saltgypsy – www.saltgypsy.com Met her at a BBQ at a friend’s house. Very inspiring how she founded Saltgypsy and where the story went from there. They make awesome surfleggins and always find and write about other brands and surf peeps who have the „certain something“. Fresh, creative, BEAUTIFUL!!!

La finca – Spanish bliss and Joli – French deliciousness

27 Aug

Whenever I drove direction Kerobokan or Seminyak I passed a Restaurant still under construction called La Finca. It looked really beautiful. But I never stopped to have a look. One day, I saw that it opened and served dinner in the evenings. It looked quiet expensive so I still never stopped.

But then, one day, we discussed where to eat with friends, as we did every evening. We kind of always go to the same restaurants so I brought the Spanish one up. We decided to go and have a look (especially at the prices). We were positively surprised: A beautiful interior, attentive staff, delicious food, middle price range. We were in. And we thoroughly enjoyed the evening. Very recommendable restaurant and the owner is also super friendly, very attentive and if there is any problem: it will become a “no problem at all anymore”.

Here the website should you be in the vicinity and crave delicious Spanish Tappas: www.lafincabali.com

Image

Another very good restaurant in the region of Umalas is Restaurant Joli. A bit off the beaten track and not cheap, but worth going. Here the address: Jalan Bumbak, Umalas, Bali.

Indonesians or noisy mornings or noisy days in general

22 Aug

Indonesians are lovely people. Very welcoming, very open, very warm, always up for a good joke and a good laugh. Well, I actually can’t speak for the whole 250-Million-inhabitants country, but lets talk about the ones in Bali. They have a positive attitude towards life even if their life is – often – hard enough. They have a certain sparkle in their eyes, which implies and shows a joy of life seldom seen in people of western countries. They live in the now, and that’s what is important. The present.

But, if you live in a local neighbourhood, you learn that Indonesians are also very noisy people, especially early in the morning. And with early I mean latest 6 am. They start the day with a shower (which means that all water pumps around my house go off), laundry, cooking (my house smelled very onion-ish, spicy-ish and delicious every morning), repairing their motorbikes (which results in a roaring engine for at least half an hour) and many other things. They also have millions of roosters who start their noisy activities at 3 am and they don’t stop their screaming until around 9 am. The children scream and jump around and no one reprimands them.

In addition, the mosque was just right behind my house. So starting around 4 am, the muezzin called for prayer – through a loud speaker facing my house. And all the flocks of birds around started – of course with the first daylight – chirping however loud they could, competing with the roosters of course.

Luckily I have a deep sleep. So all the before-6am-noise was no problem. But then, sleeping in past 6 am was kind of a hard thing to do.

After 9 am, you couldn’t hear anything at all anymore. The most quiet neighbourhood ever. Really. It’s dead quiet then. Silent. Not a sound to hear.

But that’s Bali life and I love it!

DSC01719

Snapped Boards – June 2013

20 Aug

Can’t believe it. Snapped my 5th board during my (not yet very long) surfing career attempting a duck-dive. How stupid is that? My board-snapping-series started a few years ago. First, I only snapped my beautiful Kai-Otton-Competitionboard in half in a small swell in Berawa. The waves were small that day but razor-sharp. I duck-dived one and the board just slipped out of my hand, really don’t know why. When I came back up, I had not just one board, but two halves of a board.

Anyway. I fixed it and it was almost like brand new again.

The following year was the really bad one. One day, we went to a spot close to Keramas on the east coast of Bali. It was quiet big, the current strong and the wave a heavy one. After infinite paddling to stay in the take-off zone I managed to get the best wave of my current surf life. Happily paddling back towards the line-up it happened. Big set from the back. Ahhhh! My friend yelled at me I should paddle more to the right. But I wasn’t sure I heard him right, cause it seemed more logic to me to paddle to the left and try to make it through the green wall instead the roaring white water lip.

I was wrong and he was right. I didn’t make it to the green, the wave broke exactly where I was, my attempted duck-dive failed and my new board was snapped right through the middle. Anyway, now I know that, in situations like that, I should aim for the white water because the force of the water is not as strong as at the breaking point.

Not that I wouldn’t make the same mistake again in my life. I actually did. A saying says: I don’t do mistakes once or twice, I do them five or six times, just to be sure. That completely applies to me. You can imagine the result, right?

Anyway. Went to Serangan the same day, borrowed an old board of a good friend, warned him that I might gonna snap it, paddled into the line-up, didn’t pay attention, unintentionally ended up in the middle of a freakset, attempted a duck-dive, came back up and the board was snapped in half. Damn it!

The next day in Berawa was still quiet big. So I took my old Kai-Otton-Competitionboard, paddled to the line-up, didn’t pay that much attention again (was chatting to a friend), got caught up in a freakset again, attempted a duck-dive again and came back up with my board in two pieces (and it didn’t snap at the same place it already did the previous year). AGAIN.

Couldn’t believe it. All my friends just laughed their ass off and nobody even considered borrowing me his or her board. I wouldn’t give my board to someone like me, that’s for sure.

Anyway. I actually did find someone who gave me his board for the following day. An epoxy one. They’re supposed to be quiet hard to snap. And what happened? No, no duck-dive or freakset this time. But I fell on my motorbike on a shitty potholed road. And of course exactly on the side with the board in the board rack. Nose severely cracked. Ouch.

Yeah, and then, my beautiful pink board as I described in the first paragraph of this story.

Anyway, I hope five times is enough for the rest of my life. Please, God of Surfers, give me a break and let me successfully duck-dive any freaksets I might encounter in the future!