I got tossed by a wave in Nicaragua.
Let me rephrase that….
I got thrashed and schooled by a wave in Nicaragua.
It was one of those defining moments that engulfs and then stirs up every part of you. Your heart, mind and body get a jarring wake up call. Every aspect of who I am was tossed around like a rag doll and spit out by the Pacific Ocean.
My major take away from the situation? — Jelayna, you are so very tiny. This tiny vessel holds a crazy beautiful, candlelight existence that can be snuffed out at any moment. Especially if you venture into a big ass wave.
It was our first full day in Nicaragua. Everyone had safely arrived. We were celebrating on the beach enjoying the sand and sun. The resort we were staying at was a designated surfing beach, with very large and intense waves that would relentlessly crash against the shore.
They were the kind of waves you could hear in the night. Even though the beach was a good 100 m away, when you laid down to sleep the waves were your roommate and they decided to flop down beside you every five seconds, crashing into your dreams.
Even with their intensity, they were mesmerizing and so much fun to play in. Our group was running in and out of the ocean, bathing in the equatorial sun and riding the salty surf. The tide started to come in. As a result, the waves were growing a bit too large to frolick in. A few of our group were still in the water. As the retreat leader my adult brain kicked in and started to get nervous.
I head into the ocean to flag them down and request they come in. I dove into the waves to swim out further. I came up to the site of a 15 foot wave about to crash down on top of me. My actual thought in that moment I remember quite clearly,
“Well fuck. This is happening”
And it sucked. As in sucked me under and tossed me like a leaf in the wind. My next thought?
“Jelayna, relax. Feel for the bottom and then push up to the light.”
I learned later from someone who knows how to get thrashed by waves this was the right reaction. I am not someone who knows much about reading waves or getting caught in them (clearly). All I know is I felt utterly helpless. The ocean had me, and all I could do was submit.
When I finally made it to the surface I gasped for air only to have another wave crash down on me and pull me under. This time I felt the undertow. This time I felt fear. Still, I chose to relax, submit and push up to the light.
Second time at the surface I started to swim to shore, riding the waves that were still crashing down and trying to body surf my way back to safety. By the time I made it out I was shaking, exhausted and in shock.
I knew if I didn’t go back into the surf right away, the fear I felt in my body would take hold, making the rest of the week by the ocean extremely unfun. So I went in, my body still vibrating with adrenaline and anxiety. I spent the rest of the day (unsuccessfully) trying to shake it off.
Lucky me, we also had a surfing lesson that afternoon. Weeeeee!
The whole time our group was laughing and learning, my body was gripped in fight or flight mode. I was unable to find my footing and kept falling off the board. Discouraged and humbled, I left the water early and went up to the beach bungalow where a group of hammocks awaited.
I sat down in one of the hammocks. Before I knew it I was weeping uncontrollably. I didn’t have a choice. My body was quite fed up with my antics and decided to unleash the very real trauma I’d experienced by making me ball my eyes out like a grieving widow.
But who had died?? That ever evolving sense of self that hopes it is immune to life’s tragedies. RIP babe – you’re not exempt from life’s harsh ocean of unpredictability.
This event had so many life lessons in it. It became like that obnoxious, know it all therapist who keeps pointing out all your issues. You hate them for it, but you know they’re right.
Hey Jelayna – you know your tendency to put yourself in danger in order to rescue others? Might want to cut that out.
Hey Jelayna – you know that pesky habit you have of putting on a brave face and soldiering through emotional trauma like it’s nothing but a thing? You’re not gonna live very long or happily if you keep that up.
Hey Jelayna – you know how you’re constantly trying to control things? Remember how the only thing that saved you in a moment when you could have drowned was LETTING GO OF CONTROL? You might want to apply that to your everyday life.
Oh – and one more thing – don’t go into the fucking ocean when you don’t know how to read the waves.
When I closed my eyes that night, my body was right back in the sea. You know when you go to an amusement park, spend the whole day riding roller coasters, and by the end of the day when you close your eyes your body feels like it’s still looping gleefully through the air? That was happening to me. Except it wasn’t the safety regulated Behemoth at Canada’s Wonderland I was riding. It was a wave that could have easily drowned me throwing me around like a rag doll, over and over again.
I still played in the ocean during the week, with one major difference – I had a hell of a lot more respect for it. I couldn’t bring myself to surf though. Instead, I let the lessons that wave was teaching me settle into my body, mind and soul.
It has taken me several months to let this experience settle in. It’s only now, 4 months later, that I feel able to share it. Even so, it is still teaching me things.
Later that week, we traveled into San Juan Del Sur, an adorable tourist town with local artisans lining the street corners. I came across a simple silver ring in the shape of a wave. I immediately wanted it. I knew my wave tossing moment was a life defining one, and I wanted this piece of beautiful minimalist jewelry to constantly remind me of it.
I wear it often, my ring wave. Every time I see it, I’m pulled back into the ocean. I’m reminded of how fragile and magnificent life is. I’m humbled as I recall how tiny, and essentially insignificant I am. I am made insanely grateful for the life I have been given.
Every time I look down at the “silver lining” on my finger, I am once again made aware of the tragic beauty of life and how it could be taken away in the blink of an unseeing eye.
I don’t see it as masochistic or unnecessary to be reminded of a moment that scared me to death. Because in that same moment, it awoke me to life.
I got thrashed and schooled by a wave in Nicaragua. To this day, it is still teaching me lessons. Even on dry land in Canada. So namastay in Nicaragua with the waves of reality keeping my heart and mind on the solid ground of humility and gratitude. Except this time? I know how to read the tides a bit better.
