ON THE ROAD AGAIN – chasing the dreamscape

I found my sea legs here, at this break, at the tender age of twelve.

Since then I have been to Indonesia a few times, my first trip at only sixteen; I have surfed almost everywhere in South Africa, commercial and secret spots included; Mozambique, Namibia and believe it or not Lake Malawi in a crazy storm as this would have been the only time the lake actually came to life with swell.

Over the years of traveling and living in other places, I always come back here. The car park banter, the smiles in the line up, the welcome back high fives.

Every four years or so I get a little restless. Call it itchy feet or opportunity creation, if the change doesn’t present itself, I make sure to create it. Thinking back on life up until now, it seems I’ve always functioned in these four year cycles and I’ve definitely always been restless. The last few weeks especially so.

I get a bit antsy and bored with my routine. It usually means that I need to go on a trip, take on a new challenge, work or personal or move and start over. What a laugh. I do this and easily go to these extremes. The weird thing is that the four year mark was last year and I made the necessary changes. Quit my day job and went back to being a full time creative. I’d say that’s a pretty big shift to adjust to but half way through the year, the restlessness hasn’t left my bones.

Luckily I was due for a work trip in De Hoop Collection and then some time out in the Garden Route when these feelings got too much. While at De Hoop the taxi strike took hold of the country something fierce and for the first time ever I was worried. Worried about the country and the state it finds itself in; sad for everyone just trying to make a living and the harsh inequality that breaks the scale. I don’t want to leave, I don’t think that is the answer but for the first time I asked myself where to? This conversation makes me wildly uncomfortable, may it be because I need to face some harsh realities, may it be because I need a dose of humble pie, may it be because I hope for things to not turn out that way. Deeper questions loom.

I’m turning forty next year. That’s quite something. I’m not sharing it because I’m scared, I’m sharing it because lately the idea of being in the last few months of my thirties has interestingly brought up some feelings I do not entertain on a daily basis. I think there is a part of me that is mourning a life I’ve never experienced due to this tact changing restlessness of mine. I’ve only ever dreamed of a white dress and walking down the isle, kids, a family and a future in togetherness once. And now things are different.

I decided to stay in the place that makes me feel most at home and make the restlessness disappear for a little while longer and finally found some off-shore days to enjoy my home surf break. I taught myself how to surf here but at the same time it showed me how resilient I am. Through out life this resilience has been a good friend, but lately comfort and surrender into commitment has also knocked on my door, a part of me wanting to welcome them with open arms. This part of the coast line has also gifted me with an intimate ocean community that always welcomes me home, no matter the time that has passed and beautiful moments of being deeply present with my family. But this afternoon I drove to this place I love so much, feathery westerly, clean conditions. I stopped in the car park, no locals in sight; paddled out and no friendly familiar faces in the line up. A new generation of cool kids out there.

It finally caught up with me, change. The one place I have kept safe from the only constant in the world finally succumbed to it and I was not a part of it. For once I needed things to stay the same. From here on, everything will be classified as the unknown.

I held resilience hand tightly on the drive home.

Stefni

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