When you paddle into a big wave, you’re committed.
When you enter into the asylum, you’re committed.
The physical push yields a return of energy from ocean to body, from sea to feet.
The mental push yields a return of dissociation to association, from entropy to order, from freedom to imprisoned, from individual to group.
Surf the wave and you’re free of judgement.
Surf the mind and you’re an outcast.
The courageous make the bottom turn and allow the lip to close like a curtain over the outer world, separating the surfer from the herd on the beach.
They pull in, committed to no ideas, free from the beliefs of man, lost to the fear of death and the nervous tittering of approbation.