Till You Can't Feel Your Feet

This is the time of year when I am supposed to be thankful for things. Friends, family, good food, a healthy heart, etc. It's easy to overlook all of the good shit I've got going on, though. Overwhelmed at times by a whole bunch of bullshit, bad people and even worse weather. But when I can step back for a second, you know, really digest some of this shit, it becomes apparent that I've got it really good. It's easy to complain, however. To want more or yearn for something other than what you've already acquired. The grass being greener and all that. And so I struggle. Like a lot of people I presume. Wanting what others own; a bigger van, a different sorta surfboard, some new shoes. Whatever it is. But when I stop to think, to take into account where I am at versus where I was, the desires disappear. Instead I smile, thinking about all the waves we had this weekend, the campfires and the cold beers, the offshore wind and the candid conversations. It was incredible. And I couldn't be more thankful. Because in the end, all the crap we've acquired won't matter that much. It'll be the experiences - daydreams and nightmares alike - that define who we are, or who we were.


Friendly Fella.

A Little Late.

Squeeze.

Brick + Jazz.

Curly.

Surf Right.

Hog Draggin.

Tail Stompin.

Jazzing the Fucking Glass.

Documentation.

Lord Help Me.

Finally.

Navy Seals.

Tipping.

Toeing.

Blaze Orange, etc.

K-9.

Socks and Slippers.

Outta the East.

Irish Oatmeal.

Crumple Zone.

Pine.

Hair Care.

Whispers.

Indian Creek.

Ten and Two.

Faster!

Festive Fargo.

Surfy photos come courtesy of Karissa_Would.

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