The Endless Bummer

Communing at Santa Claus Lane, Late Last Century

My mother-in-law and I have some ongoing debates about all sorts of things. It's nice to have that as part of our relationship. The ability to really blast away at each other on philosophical and political points and be all in the clear relationally afterward should not be taken for granted.
For Father's Day she sent me the recent Surfing magazine about how surfing has become a religion. The articles in that rag are predictably shallow but it's always interesting to see what pops out of unlikely sources.
This weekend we found out a very close friend has a fair bit of cancer sitting in his chest. We visited him in the hospital yesterday. I brought him Sprout and Seedling to try and get his mind off the confines.
In that Surfing magazine, the religion one, in the lead article, there is a line about how the author really only finds a place to pray and get out his feelings in the water; how the act of surfing is his translation of a communion or liturgy; his way of dealing with the pain and celebrating hope.
I felt that this weekend. I felt like maybe the most effective way of getting out some emotion is by taking it to the water.
There is an imminent trek to be made in the name of my friend's health and my own mental stability.
-Toddy