The Parable of the Kitesurfers

(Originally written July 2010)

Life decided to have a cool little lesson play out in front of me yesterday afternoon to show me what trust was.

Scene: the beach, having just did the whole meditation thing, I focused on the kitesurfers in the water. Now kitesurfing looks pretty damn cool, it’s exactly how it sounds, except the kite looks a hell of a lot more expensive than the shitty cheap ones we buy and kill in about 20 minutes. Just me?

There were two in particular that caught my attention, we’ll call them “Red” and “Blue”.

Red had no issue getting their kite up in the air. Yet, Red also never managed to get up on their board. Like, at all. It was pretty hard to watch. I did notice that Red continuously held on to their board for dear life, like if they let go something was going to go horrifically wrong. Eventually, Red’s kite just couldn’t stay up any longer and it splashed into the water. Eventually Red worked their way back onto land and called it a day.

Now Blue…same wind, same water, same kind of equipment…didn’t seem to have much of an issue. At least the same issue. They never seemed to hold on to the board at all. Blue also was able to get right up and be able to ride the board. Now Blue fell. A lot. Constantly. Which seems to be the thing, you ride for a bit, it’s awesome, you fall off. Rinse, repeat. Considering I was yesterday years old when I realized it was actually called kitesurfing, it’s safe to assume I know less than nothing about it. But it’s what observation seemed to show me.

Anyway, Blue kept falling off but Blue only seemed to hold their board just long enough to retrieve it. After that, they just popped right back up onto the board and rode some more. Tumble, splash, jump back on. Regularly.

It was clear that there was no worry, concern, any of that shit. There was no thought after any of the falls, they just got right back up, no holding of the board. Just like the Chumbawamba song.

It was at that point I realized I had it all wrong when it came to trust. At least in the way I need to think of it going forward. It’s not the results, it’s the PROCESS! Red had no process because they just wouldn’t stop holding on to the board like demise was imminent as soon as they released. Blue had nothing but process happening. Ride for a minute, fall off, pop back up, ride some more, fall again, up again, ride again. Always falling, always getting back up. Never any trepidation, never allowed any time for trepidation to even appear. Up, down, next.

That to me was EVERYTHING! THAT is the lesson. Trust isn’t the proper landing. Trust was never about the result. Trust is about knowing that everything is still okay when the stumble and fall happen. Trust is knowing that it’s going to happen anyway. Trust is not letting the fear even have time to establish. Trust is just getting right back out there. Trust is knowing that the right adjustment might not happen this time, the next time, or the time after that. But that as long as we’re getting right back out there it’ll come. Trust isn’t in something else, or someone else, or anything external. It’s in staying in the room. It’s the part where you keep going no matter what anyone else does and believing that it will go where it needs to and that everything will be just ducky.

Wow, lesson learned.

Side note, eventually they both came out of the water and were chatting about their experiences. Red kept talking about how all of these external things kept going wrong for them, and nothing was working. Blue said something along the lines of “yeah, I saw the same stuff, I just trusted it would be okay. And it was”

Touché, Universe. Touché.