Surfing & Sagacity

Today’s post is an ode to my brothers. How lucky am I to have two brothers that I not just tolerate, not just like okay, but whom I really, genuinely enjoy?

Unfortunately, I don’t know many people who can say the same.

When my husband and I are off capering about overseas, I miss my brothers something fierce. Because they’re AWESOME. They’re both witty and kind, fun and adventurous, intelligent and chill.

Despite being twins, they’re actually pretty different from one another. Which is spectacular for me, because when I’m hanging out with them one on one, I get to savor doing different things with each.

Jared is always game to go shooting or attend a Texas Country Music concert.

Hunter is my surf buddy.

Very sad to say, but it’s been almost two months since my last surf session with Hunter (my husband and I returned to China from our vacation in the States around mid-summer). But something Hunter said as he and I drove back from our last watery hurrah has stuck with me ever since:

If something’s broke, you fix it.

At the time, we were driving over the Gulf Intracoastal Waterway bridge, the blue rolling out like a frothy carpet below us, the sea breeze whipping through the pickup truck’s open windows. We were chatting about life changes and wanting to make self-improvements, be it careers, exercise regimens, etc. But when Hunter said what he did, he moved from talking in theoreticals and wishes to making a statement about responsibility. It was a call to action, to stop sitting still while you pine, thinking restoration will come of its own accord.

When you see something broken in your life, it’s your job to fix it. To own it.

Somewhere out there, my mom’s reading this and preparing to lovingly remind me that we can’t always self-will to recovery. That we need God’s assistance. And she’s 100% right.

But I also think of all those moments where I talked a good talk about wanting to speak better Mandarin, but decided I was too embarrassed of my terrible pronunciation of tones to practice speaking with my tailor….

Wanted to lose 10 pounds, but decided I still needed to have a Twix Bar for dessert (for the 7th night in a row)….

Wanted to diversify my writing portfolio, make myself more marketable, but blew off starting a blog for yet another day, thinking à la Scarlett O’Hara, “I can’t think about that now; I’ll think it about it tomorrow….”

Divine intervention is often the second step, at least for me. First I have to acknowledge the break in my life. Take ownership and identify (sometimes confess, depending on how strongly I’m avoiding something) the next actions I can take to get the problem mended.

This idea of productively owning my flaws is motivating me still, these eight weeks later. Maybe it’s just that surfing, with its cocktail of exercise and in-the-water-time, brings me clarity–perhaps doing so before my brother and I chatted predisposed me to absorb some wisdom. But I tend to think it was the straight-forward strength of my brother’s sagacity.

Either way, one baby step at a time, I’m taking deliberate actions here and there (with God’s help) to mend some broken bits in the way I approach life. The proof is in the fact that you’re reading this.

After all, I finally started my blog.

My bro, me, and my dad enjoying margaritas during our Costa Rica surf trip. Hard to imagine anything better.

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