Surfing and the parameters of Flow
- ottokallin
- Nov 12, 2016
- 11 min read
Flowstates.
The reason I keep on raving about them is because of their truly profound ability to instantly change the way we perceive reality. Which if you haven’t guessed, is what this site is all about.
Steven Kotler, the founder of the Flow Genome Project describes in his book ‘Rise of Superman’ how flowstates literally saved his life when he was near incapacitation from Lyme disease.
So then, flowstates. We’ve all experienced them at various points in our lives, whenever we first tried something new that stimulated us. That initial experience of excitement is our brain responding by releasing dopamine, serotonin and other feel good chemicals, basically it is trying to say;
“This is good! Pay attention.”
And one of the prerequisites for a flowstate, is that it’s autotelic (a Greek term meaning ‘self-rewarding’) or ‘Fun’ to the layman! There are some other requirements too, like there has to be some level of risk involved and the feedback has to be immediate, but according to the scientists at the FGP the most important aspect is the cycle that we have to go through in order to achieve Flow, that cycle goes something like this;
Struggle – Release – Flow – Recovery
We struggle to learn something new and difficult.
We come to a point where the struggle gives way and we release.
The walls of limitation fall away and we enter the quasi magical state of Flow.
We come out the other end and believe we are finished, but this is simply the part where our body needs rest in order to internalize what it has learned and process it into long-term memory.
I went to Bali with the hopes of learning the ancient art of surfing and what follows is my journey towards that goal as I pass through each of the steps of the flow cycle.
Day 3 - Introduction
I am splashing through the waves on a rented foamboard at a beach in Kuta. Where for about 200 000 rupiah (circa 12 euro) you can hire a local surf instructor to teach you the do’s and don’ts of the waves. Mine is called Marco and mostly his instructions consists of; “Paddle, paddle, paddle!” or “Paddle harder!” and now and then a “Keep your legs together..” But every once in a while we actually get to the point where he gets to say;
“Stand up!”
And it feels like it is actually paying off. At least I catch more waves than I used to, though they are all relatively small and already broken. On some other beach my friends are skimming the edges of unbroken waves, making it look easy. I can’t wait to be able to do the same.
There I was, bright eyed, bushy tailed.
Exited for some ocean.
Day 7 - Struggle
The waves have gotten bigger as I decide to follow my friends to their favorite beaches and reef breaks. But luckily for me the swell is down today, so the waves are not as big as they could have been. Still if the tide is low and the reef gets exposed, it can be scary shallow in at times.
I have gotten used to taking falls though. Don’t tense up, that’s the trick. Go limp and let the wave take you for a tumble. Spinning you around and if you are lucky it will even leave you with your feet downwards and head pointing up. But if you are tense, that’s when you go for a ride, spinning you like the message in a bottle, scrambling your ups and downs until you have no idea of where you are anymore.
After it eventually has let you go, you must find the surface, double quick. Most likely you will have wanted nothing else for the last... however long you’ve been down here. But it is not easy to find something even as big as the sky when all you can see is bubbles and salty water stings your eyes. A safe bet though, is to follow the strap that binds your ankle to the tail end of your surfboard. So you eventually break the surface and gasp for breath. Better hope it was a big one because you have just about two seconds before your next big problem hits you square in the face and you are taken for another spin.
Hours later I slop onto the beach, half drowned like some lone survivor of a shipwreck.
The sand is soft and I feel exhausted.
But at least I learned something... I did, didn’t I? At least I think so… I am hungry, I wonder what's for breakfast?
Dragonfriut yogurt. Awesome!!
Here is Erik btw.
Day 11
I have taken a few days trip to a place Patric recommended called Bingin beach, an absolutely amazing place, hidden away in the Uluwatu hills. I will have to give it its own chapter to do it justice.
Enough for now to say that the waves are great but the locals are fierce. Surfing is not known for being a welcoming sport to beginners as the experienced practitioners can be quite protective of their favorite waves.
Luckily for me there is a competition going down today on the right-hander, which means that all the locals are preoccupied at the other end of the beach and us outsiders can have the left side swell all to ourselves.
I’ve met an old timer here who likes to hand out advice to newbies such as myself. He looks like a long haired Obi Wan Kenobi with a RipCurl T-shirt and an Aussie accent. His help has been good, but of course it mostly consists of “paddle, paddle, paddle!” Still, he has given me some good instructions about keeping my legs together and how to jump straight to standing once you caught the wave.
I never imagined surfing could be this difficult, but nothing worth having comes easy, right?
I hear the announcers voice echo over the waves, if someone else can do it then, so can I - God damn it!
Day 15
I hurt from various scrapes and bruises. But still up at 5 though. Got to catch them first light waves before the set gets too crowded.
Day 19
The key to driving in this place, I’ve realized, is to understand that nobody gives a shit about you. Their only concern is getting where they are going. Personally I am going to the ocean, which it appears, does not give a shit about me either. Once you mount a wave you are going for a ride, whether you like it or not, but if you prefer the tube over a tumble there is no margin for error. Standing up, keeping your balance, steering clear as it crest as it breaks. A single mistake, and you are wiped out.
I just want to ride on that edge where the curve of soft fluid breaks and turns in on itself before coming crashing down like thunder. I see it when I close my eyes. Navigating inside that thin sliver of space that divides order from chaos is all that I want. I want it so bad I even see it in my dreams at night...
Here is a statue I found on the way to Echo beach
It is Dewi Sri, the goddess of rice
Day 22 – More struggle
Rain patters on dark seas. My feet leave deep footprints in black volcanic sand. I walk, board in arm towards the biggest waves I’ve ever seen. Their curve is gorgeous, turning emerald green as it folds over itself, making perfect tubes right before they come crashing down with a fury.
My friends have taken me to one of their secret spots and asked me not to mention it by name. We join the few locals that are out past the reef.
We all try to tackle the smaller waves but they break from both sides and even Eric admits they are tricky. Patric however is out with the locals on the biggest of the breaks, riding like there is no tomorrow. I decide to take a try and turn my board to an approaching wave. It is fast and breaks on me just as I am trying to stand up. Before I fall I see the sharp reef bellow me.
I spread out my arms break my fall as I am plunged straight onto the rocks, it works partially, my undynamic shape slows my fall and my back is only gently graced. But then the wave comes. The insane weight of it pushes me down and for a fraction of a moment I can not move at all, then it lifts me and flings me along the seafloor as if I was nothing. I tense and expect to feel sharp stones cutting into me at any moment. I am lucky this time however, and reach the surface with a gasp. Now I have to fight to get to the beach as wave after wave pounds on me then battle past them if I want to get out again. Of course I try again later, but in the end I do not catch a single wave…
As we leave, I see a rainbow, clearly visible above the reef.
Day 23
Fuck this shit! Fuck you, you fucking ocean! Fuck your waves, fuck your reefs and fuck every single fucking sea urchin in your murky fish-flemy crevasses!
Day 24
…
Day 25
I am pissed. I told myself I could do this and today I damn well shall. My feet still hurt from all kinds of cuts and chafes, my chest is sore from rubbing against the board and my head is heavy from lack of sleep, still, I am determined. At the first splash of salt water my drowsiness is washed away, but the agony from all my wounds intensifies. The waves are ferocious and I have to battle to make it outside the break. Well there I try my luck at the first wave that seems promising. I get immediately slammed. And again I have to fight out through and again I am thrown off my board, this time the wave throws the board after me and it hits me in the back of my head. Story of my life right there. Everything feels so incredibly futile. I just want to give up. I scream out my frustration where none but the fishes can hear me. I reemerge and decide to take a break. My fists are cramped in frustration and want to punch something. The ocean preferably. But the ocean punches back, hard.
I decide to make one last try and try to join Patric on the other wave. Its break is clean but also a lot bigger. As I make a try for it he sees me and shouts.
“Get back, you do not belong here!”
Infuriated and insulted I make my way back to the beach, on the way I get caught in the swell and the wave slams down on my neck like sledgehammer. At the beach, in a childish display of fury, I drop my board and thrown myself down in the shadow of a palm tree. My everything hurt, I just want to go home. A minute or an hour later Patric is standing over me, dripping with seawater.
“You crazy motherfucker. That wave could have killed you, did you see how shallow it is out there?”
“I just wanted to ride something, you know.” I close my eyes again.
He laughs and begins to plan our trip back.
I sit in the back of the car, reevaluating my luck and thinking that I might have overstepped my comfort zone a little too much this time.
The squad staring down the set at dawn.
Day 27 - Release
In the past weeks I have been slammed, bruised, beaten, burned, stung, cut, sliced, scraped, tumbled, held under water and dragged along the reef. But today was a good day, I went to Old man’s beach alone and caught a few nice ones. I feel happy.
My bed awaits me.
Day 28 - Flow
The sky is turning every color from pink to purpur as I scoot along Sunset Road. I lean in the curves, swinging in and out among trucks and Fiats. Driving has begun to feel like a game and even the name ‘Sunset Road’ sounds just like a map from Mariokart.
Earlier when I returned to find the lodge empty ventured a guess as to where everybody had gone and I stayed only long enough to leave my bag and grab a board. Now I am on my way to Echo beach, but the sun has already begun to set, I might not get that much time in the water and this will probably be my last day of surfing.
The sky looks stupendous though.
Loud house music drums a steady beat as I pull up to Finns Beach Club. The Bamboo palace’s parking is full of scooters, as usual, but I find a space and seconds later I dive into the waters. Something feels different today. My scrapes and rashes no longer hurt, even the waves seem to part ahead of me, folding over and letting me pass between them. Outside the wave break it is crowded but most are just dangling their legs in the water, staring down that fantabulous sunset. I hook my feet under the board and lay down. floating on my back I gaze the clouds. I have never seen a sky like this. Open indigo heavens set aflame around a golden sun as it slowly sinks into the ocean. A morphed reflection of it all is dancing on waters all around me, like some surrealistic masterpiece. I feel like I could just melt away into that moment. Skip the transition and begin my next incarnation as a million billion plankton drinking in that magical light. That would not be a such a bad way to go.
A Bruce Lee quote floats to the surface of my mind - “You must be shapeless, formless, like water. When you pour water in a cup, it becomes the cup… Water can drip or it can crash. Become like water my friend.” I sit back up on the board, Behind me a wave is building. It does not look huge but it is moving with power, with ‘strong mana’ as they would say. I lay down on my board, feet together, chest held high and begin to paddle.
The ocean is rising, lifting me up, caressing me. I am become the ocean and the ocean knows my will. I push myself up. The wave breaks behind me but my board is long so I step forward, speeding up. Sliding just ahead of the roiling waters I ride the wave all the way to the beach. Before I hit the sand I jump off not to break the fins. But the waters are deeper than I though and I plunge into the wave. Reemerging as it shrinks back, I shake the water from my hair. That was I needed, just one wave. I am happy and content. Ahead I see my friends, squatting on their boards, each with a Bintang in their hand. I join them and we watch the sun set in silence.
What a perfect day.
Day 30 – Recovery
As I sit on the airplane on my way back writing down these memories I think of all that I went through. All that went well and all that could have gone better. Steven Kotler talks about 4% outside ones comfort zone as the optimal degree for expansion. How you measure degrees of distance from a comfort zone I have no idea, but I think I went a bit too far from mine. Had I stayed at the beginner beaches for longer I would probably have learned more in the end. Still, I am happy I went where I went and tried what I tried. Next time it will be easier and the next time after that even more so. 4% + 4% + 4% + that is recipe for breaking limits of the possible.
For now though, it feels good to be going home. Taking a break from the early mornings and exchanging the blazing equatorial sun for powder snow and blue bird. I look forward to my new jobs and compared to getting up at 5 they will probably feel like being on vacation. I look forward to finding a new rhythm and settle into a weekday routines. I have a bunch of plans for the future, but this is the time to recuperate and let them build. For now, there is nothing left to do but to sit back, enjoy the ride and watch the world roll by beneath me.
From somewhere over Malaysia,
This is Otto Kallín signing out.
