23 June 2017

Little Surfers Surf

by Andrew

I'm at my spot, B—— beach. And I'd seen this cluster of surfers before, earlier in the week, but always in the distance, never at my spot. They are teenagers. And it's a class to teach them to surf.

I met the instructor yesterday. I'd seen him a couple days in a row now just finishing himself an early morning surf. I pointed to his surfboard and asked how you call that in Portuguese—in Portuguese. But he spoke English anyway, and very well it seemed too. But I still talked my simple English. He had to ask where I was from. And even after I told him, I continued speaking my simple English mixed with my shit Portuguese. He kind of laughed. But he liked me for it, I could tell—he was from here, Portugal. Eventhough I felt a bit foolish afterwards, like I should have been scratching my armpits too and picking my nose, the way I had spoke. But I'm improving slowly I do notice.

But anyway, he was a videographer, he said, the instructor—though I didn't know he was the instructor till just a moment ago, as I saw him out there instructing the cluster of padawan surfers. He's traveled all over surfing, recording, he said, after he'd asked me from where I was from. My interest in surfing, I recognized an opportunity, and asked, where was the best place, then, that he's been surfing. Bali, he said.

So that's how he funds his adventures I suppose, teaching surfing. I bet he makes at least €1,000 a day he does teach. There are about 10 kids out there splashing-round with him. And it's been about all week I've seen him out there, 5 days now.

And I won't get too started on this. That it must be nice to be priviledged, and all that, and to be able to afford lessons and a nice day on B—— beach. To complain does nothing. But it is sad yet that the poor really are excluded. Though there is always a way round that, to be sure, being poor but still able to do as you please. But to break your back working for maybe 2 years in the summer as a teenager to be able to afford yourself some surf lessons a rich kid is able to take just to stay-out of his parents's hair a few hours seems a bit much.

But maybe that's my whole point. To be poor, but to try to do that which normally is reserved only for people with money, it's a difficult path. Because there are road-blocks everywhere. So you must learn to go around or go through. And people with money never learn that, for the most part. They go around the roadblocks simply by paying money and being allowed to pass through the gate.

So take notes, parents, how you raise your kids. But it is true too, that that difficult path often leads down a very dark road. In which case, a little directed guidance helps, if you do indeed know where to push, from experience yourself. Or to the wanderer, follow only that guidance—which always does appear when needed if properly searched, that guidance—if earnestly sought—which is most pleasing to your ear, and you will not be led wrong.

So, back to surfing. I want to learn to surf. And when I eventually do get the money, I won't take lessons. I'll use that money instead to buy myself a surfboard. And I'll learn on my own.

And I bet I'll master surfing before any of these padawans. I have already a doctorate of writing, afterall. And once you master one thing, to master another thing becomes easier. And then to master another thing becomes easier yet. This is my main idea here, finally out with it—the domino-effect of mastery.

You can't buy mastery. You can buy a piece of paper that says you are a master. But that does not make you a master.

Mastery must be got. It must be earned. The obstacles are the way.

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