Surfing in the Fog

2026-03-11

When surfing in the fog I am directly prompted to think philosophically.

I inevitably ponder the counterintuitive truism in quantum mechanics stating that all that is unseen could be — and in fact is — anything and everything it can be. As fellow wave riders, strangers and friends, wink out of my sphere of sight and consciousness, as the steadfast constructs of society become transient and melt into the muffling grayness, all standards for comparison and preconceptions of perspective vanish and my thoughts branch out unfettered.

As I ride (or duck beneath) the waves that silently materialize before me, concepts that have long eluded me suddenly coalesce. The parallel pathfinding algorithm underlying my project for the Intel STS came to me not in a laboratory or classroom but as I watched the branching rivulets of water find their way down my surfboard as I emerged from underneath a wave — I saw how signals splitting and rejoining as they propagate through a network can simulate the shortest path problem in computer science. Often, I find it more productive to open my mind to the vast ocean's meditative lull than to study.

Sitting at peace in the stillness between the hollow waves is but one tributary of the vast "stream of power and wisdom" that animates me, the great river of physical and spiritual truth that emanates from nature. Running my hand along the ice-glazed needles of the fallen pine, inhaling the green-diffracted God-thought-breath of the morning forest, laughing as I hold wide my windbreaker and lean euphorically into the rushing torrents of the rain — this timeless rapture is my inspiration, this intricate, organic splendor a sanctified model for my thoughts. This is why I paddle out, never knowing exactly where I'll return to shore.

Source: NoteStream note · 1ebdac65