In Costa Rica the water is the temperature of blood. It doesn’t hurt to get in or out, and for the first second it feels fresh and sweet, like the first sip out of the coconut. Sometimes the waves are big. Sometimes they are too big. The landscape always changes, everywhere, like people. We think we know how big the waves will be. We think we know how we will feel. We turn our backs and get swallowed.
I am in the big waves often. At this point, I know they’re coming. Now, I watch them come at my face and let them swallow me. There is always a moment of panic. Then surrender. And I always come out alive.