Horue: Learning to Surf the Mind's Waves

Somewhere on the cave walls of Tahiti, painted in the 12th century, figures dance upon waves, standing steady on planks of wood, boldly meeting the sea. These ancient Polynesians were the first wave-gliders, what we now call surfers, carving their courage into history with saltwater and sun.

They called it horue, which in Tahitian means gliding on the waves. Just the word feels like a breath taken at the top of a swell.

When these oceanic adventurers reached Hawai‘i, they brought their sacred sport with them. Surfing was not just play, it was spiritual communion, a conversation with the gods, a way to harmonize with nature’s rhythm. Everyone from children to kings partook, not for glory, but to honor the sea and receive its blessings.

The tradition lives on. The embodiment of surfing isn't just a sport, it's a practice, a passion, and a playful teacher of active Zen living.

Ride the Inner Waves

In our internal landscape, the waves never stop rolling in. Thoughts rise like tides, feelings swell and crash, dreams foam and recede. But with gentle practice, we learn to ride, not resist, the fluctuating surf of the mind.

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The contemporary mindfulness guide Jon Kabat-Zinn tells us;

"You can’t stop the waves, but you can learn to surf."

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In our internal landscape, the waves never stop rolling in. Thoughts rise like tides, feelings swell and crash, dreams foam and recede. But with gentle practice, we learn to ride, not resist, the fluctuating surf of the mind.

Surfing the self starts just like surfing the ocean: with a beginner board and a bit of humility. These longer, floatier boards give us more stability. And so do beginner practices like breath awareness, nature walks, a sweet slow yoga stretch, or a sit beneath a tree with toes nestled into the dirt.

These are our whitewater zones; the safer space where we wobble and wonder and start to find our rhythm.

We notice our mental tides and the swells of mind fluctuations. The crashing waves and the soft gentle flows. The soft foam of contentment. The sun-drenched calm between them all. These mind-waves are natural; and just like the ocean, they never stop moving.

Find the Line and Flow

In surfing jargon, "finding the line" refers to aligning ourselves with the oncoming wave, positioning ourselves precisely so that when the swell rises, we are exactly where we need to be. We discover our internal line when we align our dreams, motivation, and awareness with the present moment.

Sometimes, that means paddling vigorously and standing tall with confidence. Sometimes, it means waiting it out and letting the wild waves pass. There’s wisdom in both. Wisdom in watching and wisdom in walking away. Wisdom in knowing when to dive in, leash attached and spirit ready.

No two waves are the same. That’s what makes surfing, of the sea or of the mind, so endlessly fascinating, liberating, and freeing. The ocean, like the mind, is a complex and fickle teacher.

But with enough practice, we gain something more precious than perfection: intuition. We learn when to paddle, when to wait, and when to let go. And when the big ones come, we’ve got the skills to ride it through without wiping out too hard. (Okay, maybe a little. But we bounce back.)

Repetition Builds the Ride; Learning to Surf

Here’s the secret all surfers know: it’s not just the waves, it’s the repetition. Show up again and again, fall and paddle back out. Our inner surf practice is the same. Whether it’s morning breathwork, trail running under the trees, or journaling with toes in the grass, it’s this showing up that builds our oceanic wisdom.

We study the tides of our own mind. We watch the emotional forecast. We learn from mentors, coaches, and nature herself. And we begin to know when it’s time to drop in, when to coast, and when to rest.

Some days, the surf is rough, with jagged winds and murky skies. And those are the days when we listen to the voice that says, not today, just take a breather. The storm will pass, and not every wave needs to be ridden.

And when the moment is right? We paddle, we rise, we ride like the ocean was always in our bones.

Water Becomes Second Skin

With practice, the surf becomes less about performance and more about presence. The wave underfoot, the spray on skin, the sun slicing through a curl of water; we become one with it all. We’re no longer thinking our way through life; we’re gliding. Balancing. Adjusting. Flowing.

Motivation and intuition? They become our leash and board wax, tools we trust and tend to. They keep us connected. Grounded. Willing to catch the next set.

And oh, the joy! The delicious lightness when the wave lifts us. The way fret melts into foam. The freedom that hums when we become feather-light, salt-slicked, and whole. This is active zen living at its finest.

Not escaping life, but riding with it. All of it, including every swell and dip and crash. We do this with breath, with grace, with laughter, and with love.

So fly across the water. Listen to the hush of the waves. Let the surf soak into your soul. The ocean is within you; and it’s calling you to ride.

They say, "Only a surfer knows the feeling." Be this surfer, ride the waves; the joy, freedom, and glory is waiting!

Cheers!

Kether

Spunky Mind

"There are a million ways to surf,

and as long as you're smiling,

you're doing it right."

Mike Coots