The Pull of The Ocean

Three years ago I finally decided to start to learn how to surf. Somewhere deep inside I have always wanted to surf, even before I moved to California in 2004. To be more accurate, I have always wanted to spend as much time as I could in the ocean. 

I grew up in Upstate New York where most of the year I was thawing my fingers and toes, learning how to endure a cold (freezing cold). Now, don't get me wrong it was not all pain and suffering. I had hot summer nights, swimming holes, and the cool crips air of fall. I was still yearning for the ocean. I would fall into sleep dreaming of salt in my hair, and listen for waves crashing from hundreds of miles away. 

I studied Elementary Education at Temple University staring in the fall of 2000. I would stay during the summers to work and live with my father who was living in downtown Philadelphia. As often as I could I would hop on the bus bound towards Atlantic City, among people yearning for the thrill of betting it all as much as I could not wait to throw my towel down and my body in the ocean.  I had never felt so free. 

My last semester of undergrad I went on Semester At Sea. I spent three months on a converted cruise ship, taking classes and traveling the world. I was not as much interested in traveling to nine countries around the globe as I was in subsiding on ocean more than on land. 

As soon as I graduated from Temple University, I moved with my sister to San Francisco. That was 12 years ago. When people asked me why I moved to California, I say with the utmost most confidence, "the ocean."