Wave
A wave looms over me like a hurricane. I am at one with my surfboard, and the taste of seaweed spurs me on. A crowd of people are on the beach. I cannot see them wave, but my imagination is enough.
It has been a long three years.
After my accident, I didn’t think I would get on a surfboard again. I was scared of failure, but more than that, I couldn’t think beyond my hospital bed, and rounds of physiotherapy. I lost more than my sight that day, I lost my will to live.
Now the only wave of emotion is tears of happiness mixed with the salt water. Life has a habit of going on regardless. As I slide across the wave, my arms stretch out. It feels like I’m flying. Flying towards the beach like a shooting star across the horizon.
I am home, and at one with my board again.
I think of babies learning to crawl or walk. No matter how many times they fall, (and go boom) they never seem afraid of failure.
I wonder when we learn to be scared of failure.
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