Surrender to the Ocean’s Powerful Way of Being
How a surf teacher taught me resilience, freedom, and the art of letting go
In Tenerife, I met a remarkable man.
He was my surfer teacher. No, I already know what you are thinking. He wasn’t the blond, godlike surfer adonis we all imagine. And there also isn’t any romance included in this story.
But he was special.
I call him my guru spiritual surfer teacher.
Allow me to tell you this little story.
So I left on a holiday for the island of Tenerife without a real plan. Nothing was booked. I hadn’t done any research. But I knew I wanted to avoid the touristy part and enjoy nature, and maybe I would take up surfing.
I ended up lingering in a hostel in the northern part of Tenerife, where you have lush green flora, massive cliffs, and the wild ocean. It’s not a touristic part of the island because it’s remote. It feels like you are at the end of the world.
The first morning at breakfast, a Belgian guy told me he was going surfing. He had found this surf school that comes here with a little van every morning to give a lesson. Your level doesn’t matter, he said.
I thought this is my sign.
So I contacted the school and asked to join for the next day.
Within minutes, it was arranged. I signed up for my first surfing class.
The next morning, I was excited or nervous—sometimes, I can’t tell the difference between those feelings. By 10 a.m., I was standing in front of the beach, staring at the ocean and its big waves, waiting for someone who would take a special place in my heart—though I didn’t know it at the time, of course.
The van arrived. Four other students jumped out of it, together with Ito, the surf teacher. They all had bright blue marks on their faces, already looking like they were part of some cult. Then I realized it was just the strong sunscreen surfers use. We got our gear: a board, a strap to attach to your foot, a wetsuit, and, of course, the blue sunscreen for our faces.
After a short “theory lesson," I whispered to the girl next to me, “This guy is special.”
Here’s what the theory included:
“Look at the ocean, look! What do you see?”
Silence.
“What do you see?!”
“Euhm, waves?”
“Yes, waves, and… the current!! Guys, the ocean is strong, it is powerful, and it will take you with it without a doubt. Don’t go against the ocean, go with it. Trust it.”
Okay, well, thank you for reminding me I could DIE here. That’s reassuring.
Then we got a small practical lesson on how to jump on the board. It seemed easy and doable. Ten minutes later we were in the ocean and just got started.
It was a mess. It was a struggle. I sucked immensely.
After an hour of plodding in the water, swallowing seawater, having snot coming out of my nose, prickly eyes, and getting hit hard by another surfer from the back, I was desperate and not sure anymore if the tears in my eyes were from the salty water or pure frustration.
At that moment, Ito decided to awaken his inner spiritual surfer guru.
He came to me, looked into my eyes and said:
“Baby girl, why are you like this? Why are you blocking yourself from letting go? Why are your muscles all tightened up? I don’t know what is going on in your life, but something is holding you back.”
At this point, I was sure the tears in my eyes were pure emotions. And suddenly, they started pouring out of my face, joining the salty water of the ocean.
I nodded fiercely, sobbing, and mumbled,
“That’s so true, something is going on, and I’m stuck. I can’t let go.”
He said, “Look where you are. Look at the mountains, look at the ocean, look at the sun! You are one with the ocean. You are here! No need to let things at home hold you back. You can do this, baby girl. You can jump on this plank and surf. Are you ready to do it? Are you ready to take the wave?”
I nodded fiercely again.
I got onto the plank, looking at the big waves coming my way. He turned me around. Now, I was facing the beach.
“Now paddle! And when I say jump, you jump, okay?”
All I could do was trust.
“Okay!”
And there came the wave. Ito patted me on the back and shouted,
“NOW!”
I felt the wave picking me up, gaining speed, and in one fluent movement, I jumped on the plank and followed the wave until I arrived back at the beach.
It was MAGICAL. I was exhilarated.
I turned around to look at Ito, and he too had the biggest smile on his face.
I pressed my hands on my heart and shouted,
“Thank you! You are special, my friend!”
I get teary again thinking about this moment. I’m still amazed by how a single moment can have such a big impact. It could be that Ito tells this to every new student who is struggling, but I don’t care. It helped me immensely to open up. To get rid of some baggage I’m carrying with me. To be seen - truly seen - by somebody who barely knows me. To be in the now. And to just enjoy, even when things aren’t easy.
From that moment on, I truly loved the surfing experience. And I didn’t manage to get up on the plank every time, but the frustrations were gone. I didn't feel like a failure anymore.
At the end of the lesson, we all had to hold hands and stand in a circle. We had to close our eyes and listen.
“Listen to the ocean. It will whisper a meaningful word. When you hear the word, write it down in the sand, and the ocean will take it with it.” Ito said.
I listened, and I wrote down, “Let go.”
Seconds later, the ocean washed out my writing in the sand.
And I felt a bit freer again.
I took a second surf class with Ito, and although I still didn’t show a lot of talent, I had so much fun and just kept going. Wave after wave, trying again and again and again.
It was the highlight of my trip, without a doubt.
And that, my friends, was my little story of the day.
I hope it sparked some joy within you. ✨
Thank you very much for reading.
I wish you a wonderful Christmas time with your family and loved ones. Enjoy the holidays. Love and allow to be loved.
See you next week!!
Big hug, with love,
Marie
🧡
ps, If you are interested in surfing with Ito, this is his website.
I absolutely love this ❤️ What a gorgeous moment, for both of you! And I can relate to the struggles with letting go too 😅 I've been told in every possible way you can image. Sometimes I can, sometimes I can't. It's a journey.
That's one of the best things about getting out in nature period is when you actually open yourself to listening, is being able to hear what speaks to you.