Varuna – Spiritual surfing by Tusta Krishna das
Story based on the
teachings of Jagad Guru Siddhaswarupananda Paramahamsa

Part 1

Michael stroked over the first of two
waves and halfway up the face of the third, then sat back on his board, grabbed
the left rail, reversed his board, and pulled it under him and aimed it down the
face of the wave. There was no need to paddle in this situation. The board was
like a dart, and the hand of the wave propelled it toward the target.

As the wave lifted the tail of his
board, he sprang to his feet and poised in a graceful, cat-like stance. He’d
been through it dozens of times, and it was all performed effortlessly with the
grace of a ballet dancer. It would not be an exaggeration to say that once he
felt the wave beneath him, he could have come to this point with his eyes
closed. That is the power of confidence.

A split second later, the bottom fell
through and the wave sucked out like a sideways whirlpool. Faced with the
vertical throw (to call it a drop would be an understatement), his confidence
shattered. “I can’t make it!” flashed across his mind. At that moment he
surrendered all thoughts of making the wave and his efforts ceased, though in
fact he stuck to his board as it was hurled into the trough of the
wave.

The wave swallowed his board as he went
through the washing machine wipeout circuit, but spit it out on the shoulder
about twenty yards inside. It glided smoothly across the surface and into the
path of Varuna, who had witnessed the whole episode. Varuna paddled alongside
and laid his right foot on the deck of Michael’s board; then, the board in tow,
he paddled on. “Over here!” he called out as he flashed a smile to Michael,
indicating that he had retrieved his board for him.

Varuna delivered the board, and as
Michael slid onto it, Varuna asked matter-of-factly, “Do you think you could
have made it?” Michael reflected a moment before speaking. “Well, I feel
it could be done, and on some occasions I’ve done it, but never in full control,
never with real confidence. I mean, it’s not like it’s an integral part of my
surfing. It’s never really felt comfortable; it’s always been a one-shot deal, a
stroke of luck, you might say.”

They paddled on in silence and
positioned themselves in the line-up, awaiting the arrival of the next set. It
was an unusual day; the waves were seven to nine feet, the water crisp but
pleasant and incredibly clear, clearer than Michael could remember, and he had
surfed there for many years. The reef dazzled his eyes now and again as its
brilliant colours were highlighted by the autumn sun, which also sparkled on the
liquid surface. The atmosphere was alive yet not tense. They were out alone, and
the waves were plentiful.

As Michael paddled back out after a
nice tube session on the inside, a big set approached the reef. Outside he saw
Varuna paddle over the first wave just a split second before the lip curled over
and perfectly peeled down the line.

Michael altered his direction and
paddled for safety. As he cruised smoothly over the shoulder he saw Varuna whip
around on the face of a later wave and nimbly leap to his feet. The peak seemed
to leap forward as it struck the reef ledge, and its sudden surge lifted the
tail of Varuna’s board high over his head. As Varuna, his board completely
perpendicular by this time, plunged down like a fishing bird about to pierce the
ocean’s surface in pursuit of its prey, Michael flashed, “He’s finished! He’ll
never make it.”

As Michael slid over the shoulder and
down the wave, his vision of Varuna was blocked by the set’s second wave. In his
mind’s eye, however, he could picture Varuna getting drilled beneath the
surface, exactly as he himself had been drilled on that first wave earlier in
the day.

Michael scratched up the face of the
second wave and reached the crest in time to see Varuna emerge from the green
room and execute a particularly fluid cut-back, which brought him back to the
power point where the lip was landing. “Incredible! He made it! He made that
drop!” Michael let out an exuberant scream of amazement and
encouragement.

Michael raced for the shoulder of the
third wave and got a glimpse of Varuna passing beneath him as he played with and
raced the lip down the line. He must have come out of that drop like a swooping
bird, and around under the lip, like a fishing bird who pulls out of its dive
inches before striking the surface, thought Michael.

Michael let the remaining waves pass
beneath him so he could ask about that incredible take-off when Varuna got back
out. “Unreal!” he cried to Varuna as he paddled up. “How did you make that drop?
You’ve got to tell me how you pulled it off so I can learn it too!”
Although Michael was jacked up, Varuna didn’t seem to think there was much
concern for excitement. “Well, I don’t really know what you mean by ‘learn it.’
I just flowed through the situation without thinking about it and sort of did
what was naturally called for.” He stopped for a moment and thought before
speaking further. “Besides, Michael, why do you want to limit your own surfing
by copying others? I mean, those days are gone. Surfing is more of a refined
experience now. You can’t really progress by memorization alone because you will
always be entering situations that may call for an approach that you just don’t
have wired. When that happens your mind will balk, and you’ll be defeated. A
wise surfer is one who applies sensitivity to his surfing. He doesn’t rely on
his storehouse of past memorized moves. So if you just want to learn a new
manoeuvre, I’m afraid I can’t really help you. I used to approach surfing like
that, but found it to be too limiting. Refining your surfing doesn’t simply mean
refining different isolated areas and manoeuvres. In a deeper sense it means
refining your very self; then everything you do will be refined. There is an old
Zen saying that if you want to cook perfectly, you have to be the perfect cook
outside the kitchen too. In my own life I have found this to be true. As l
become more sensitive, so too does my surfing.”

Varuna fell silent. He looked at the
deck of his board and dug his nails into the wax. He half looked up at Michael
with a gentle smile on his face and then looked down again at his board. He
could go deeper still and in a sense wanted to, but he held back as he abhorred
the thought of pressing his views on others. Michael could sense Varuna’s
feelings and appreciated them. Though he had known him for a short while only,
at that moment he felt Varuna to be a true friend.