This ongoing series is written for and published first at A Mano Surf and explores the things that make surfing so enjoyable.

Tacos’ hot sauce, light’s shadow, Margheritas’ salt, surfing’s joys are heightened by the contrast with its terrors. Just as overcoming challenges makes success more meaningful, conquering fears in the surf make the good times great.

‘Le petit mort’ translates to the little death and the French use it to refer to the holy orgasm. And if it wasn’t such a perfect name for that, it’d work well to describe wipeouts and hold-downs. Because each time we wipe out, our brains kick into a fight, flight, and freeze response and panics and thinks, ‘so this is how it all ends’. And usually, we pop back up to the surface after a grueling few seconds and suck in the best-tasting air of our lives. Gratitude floods our mind and we start searching for our board and look for the next wave coming for us, suddenly conscious of how good a lung full of air feels. The little death makes us even more grateful for the time we have, the waves we can surf, and the breaths we can take unimpeded by the crushing pressure of the ocean – life’s little joys.

Shades of fear give the surfing experience texture and substance. Just like shadows give a photograph depth and yoghurt gives curry an added dimension, the fears whispering in our ears make the fun bits even better. It’s one of the reasons sharks are the great unsung heroes of surfing. The passive fear they instill each time we jump into the ocean makes the heart flutter, the mind whirl, and sprinkles additional excitement on the memory of our time in the sea each time we make it back to our towel unscathed.

“Shades of fear give the surfing experience texture and substance. Just like shadows give a photograph depth and yoghurt gives curry an added dimension, the fears whispering in our ears make the fun bits even better.”

Just as bad days make us appreciate the good, every wipeout is an optional lesson in gratitude. Our brains are wired to forget we’re breathing. So we take it for granted that our next breath is always just the other side of our lips. And when we’re underwater with the ocean holding its hand over our mouth and pinching our nose, it convinces our lizard brain we’re dying. Of course, with practice, we learn to mitigate that stress and we become more comfortable in our underwater discomfort. But even then, there’s still a spark of fear tickling our hearts. A reminder tugging on our brain that our actions have consequences. You’re going to try and make it out of that barrel – great! If you don’t, you’ll get tumbled like a baby sock in the wash – what fun.

There’s something deeply enjoyable about surrendering to the power of a wipeout. Bowing down to a greater force and shifting your attention instead to your own response. Watching fear creep up and your lungs begin to burn, and then watching it melt away with that sweet panting breath when you resurface. The excitement of our little death is rich and the worse the wipeout the bigger the excitement afterward. Being reminded of how much you appreciate a chest full of air, having our gratitude stoked for the little things we unconsciously take for granted is one of surfing’s greatest gifts. Light and dark, Valentina hot sauce and tacos, breath and no breath – le petit mort.

Stay tuned to A Mano Surf’s journal for first look at the next installment – The joy of surfing 03.

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