I have never surfed before. Although, I have often stood on the beach and watched people glide across the waves, fear has kept me glued to the shore.

Recently I read the book ‘Breath’ by Tim Winton. He gave me the chance to taste the salty air, squish the cold sand under my toes, and reel under the force of the water when I lost my balance and somersaulted into the depths below. As I imagined twisting under the ocean’s fierce grip, I congratulated myself for staying safely on dry land.

But, Yesterday, Martha Beck got me thinking about emotional surfing vs. physical surfing. She said on Twitter, ‘Don’t try to stop the waves of events or emotions; surf them. Allow upheaval and unhappiness, and you reduce their power.’

Allow upheaval and unhappiness? Really? I have a long track record of stuffing those very things into the cobwebbed section of my closet so that I can instead pull out my well worn outfits of denial and false bravado.

I have ignored sadness and fought against change by emotionally wrapping myself around the leg of an ex boyfriend and begging him not to leave or by responding to my cancer diagnosis with upbeat emails in order to pretend away my terror. (I am still waiting to find out if I made the short list for Most Congenial Cancer Patient.)

Maybe in 2011, I will learn to ride out my emotions until the urge to control a situation passes. Maybe I will wobble my arms and balance on the edge of sadness and fear instead of sending twenty desperate ‘I am sorry. I love you.’ text messages or telling everyone that life is fantastic when really I am scared shitless.

Maybe I will stop explosively reacting to situations in an attempt to avoid the pain and I will make it to the beach without an underwater, gasping for oxygen as I pull seaweed off my face, detour. After all, I am sure my search party could use a break from rowing out in the dinghy to collect my smashed up heart and pulverized pride.

Maybe 2011 is the year that I will emotionally and physically vacuum-seal myself into a wet suit, casually toss a board under my arm, and jog down the beach and into the waves with the wind in my (as soon as it gets long enough) hair.