Unexpected Paths of Connection

My Wave : The Power of Witnessing

This Thanksgiving I am thankful.  I am thankful for many things, my health being better, my children, my husband, and of course, my dog.  But I wanted to write about a new community in my life. Wave Chasers, they are called. A group of women I am slowly becoming a part of.  Meeting and playing with them, as unexpected it was, has been a balm to my healing from a very difficult year.

My recovery from a year of three abdominal surgeries left me beaten down, depressed, and isolated. I had spent so much of the past year navigating operating rooms, ER visits, stressful hospital stays, and the silent spaces in between where fear and doubt tend to grow.

I was also experiencing medical trauma. This in turn led to the all-too-familiar severe symptoms of my Bipolar II disorder — depression, trouble sleeping, feelings of extreme isolation and loneliness. As many of you know by now, this hole I am always running from started very early in my life, where I experienced severe trauma, basically starting in the womb.

These emotional undercurrents have been running alongside the physical pain, shaping how I moved through each day, and as I struggled. But through it all, I knew the ocean was calling back to me, by giving me a reason to get better.

Because, for me, healing happens at the beach, in the waves, in community. Together. The surf community became even more of a lifeline last year. First with my weekly surf therapy group, which I attended not as a therapist but as a participant.

 I would watch everyone surfing and mind-surf, while also feeling the grief being too tired or too ill to get out there. Most of the surf therapy community are much younger than me, and I can't keep up with my physical limitations.

But then I found Wave Chasers — a group of women 50+, who meet at least three mornings a week (or afternoon) to boogie board. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ANwIdZDYvsc

The  Wave Chasers are women who return to the ocean again and again — regardless of age, circumstance or stressors. They are exceptional individuals, those who understand how play is necessary to keep that child within us satisfied - by sharing waves and laughs, and the tough stuff too.

Most boogie on the inside, but some venture out beyond the break, all having fun. 

I had first heard about the Wave Chasers through Adelle, a friend from the Bay Club. I went one morning, shyly, with my boogie board. Luckily, I met Kate, one of the WhatsApp group leaders, and she added me to the group. 

Soon, I began showing up with my surfboard. A group was meeting at Torrey Pines (TP) during a summer and fall marked by consistent south swells — huge waves and frequent closeouts. The challenge was real, but it also pushed me. I started surfing at least five times a week. On off days, I’d go to Tourmaline, where I could paddle out past the break. Otherwise, it was often just Mindy and me, sitting out there at TP in terror, scanning the sets, sometimes seeing the wonder of dolphins right next to us. Sometimes we were joined by others, who were even more terrified.

During the past few months especially, my healing took on a whole new level. Being able to surf again was my goal, my reason to go on, to recover fully. I needed to build my skills - I still sucked at catching green waves. Turns out I had to learn more about the ocean, her moods and the tide. To catch green waves, I had to venture to the outside, a place i’ve never been comfortable in. I was never strong enough to paddle out as I navigated my pain and fatigue.

Most times, I’d catch one in the wrong spot and get absolutely thrown — riding the falls with my Gerry Lopez foam board. I was and still am an inside surfer, chasing the reform. Somehow, even in the messiest whitewash, I could hang on, and the board seems to magically right itself. Then I’d stand up and work on my pop-up and surf skills. Other times I’d catch a green wave, in the perfect spot and simply be too tired to pop up and ride it in on my knees or belly.  Still, I persisted.

On off days, my training was still paramount. I'd do laps at the pool with flippers, training for my eventual entry into boogie boarding on the outside, possibly knee-boarding. 

The Power of Witnessing

Then yesterday, it all came together. I caught what might seem like an average wave to others — a right on the corner — but to me, it was everything. I caught it perfectly, angled.   I stood up and glided down the face of the wave.

In front of me, down the line I passed by a bunch of the Wave Chasers, watching and waving.  

It’s one thing to go out there and catch good waves by yourself.  But it is another when you are out with your friends.

In therapy we talk about the power of witnessing, of being seen, and heard, without judgement, but instead, with compassion.

My Wave

 In the ocean, it's laughing and cheering one another on, while holding space for community and caring. 

Witnessing.  

The power of being witnessed has eased my loneliness and helped me get physically stronger.

Through PTI and Groundswell Clinic, that witnessing is what has kept me going, but something still was missing.  

Now, just in time it seems, the wave chasers are filling up my cup, bringing joy on a regular basis.

  That average wave I caught? To me was memorable for so many reasons. Without a photo, I wanted to remember it. So, I made an art rendition of it. (below)

Thank you Wave Chasers!!

(IF you to read more of my writing,, read my new book! Medical Trauma and Gaslighting)

Available on Amazon. Write me a review!!