How I Found My Wave (and Maybe Ate Some Sand)

Maktub Style:

Hello, world! Joan Sarah Rachel here, your beach-loving, wave-chasing, sand-eating guide to everything Maktub.

Love story begin

Growing up in Morocco, the beach was my playground and the sea, my best friend. I have vivid

memories of squeezing into Uncle Cham’s old Land Rover, the smell of worn leather seats mixing with my anticipation. The destination? Always the same: our beachside gîtone (tent), my sand castle kingdom.

I was the only girl amongst a sea of boys, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

There, in our ramshackle gîtone (tent) on the beach, my sandy hands holding my chicken sandwich, I felt at home. I’d return to my mother covered in sand from head to toe, my hair wild, but beaming with joy.

Its all about relationship...

Uncle Cham, my role model, was a true conqueror of waves. Watching him, I craved that thrill. But when I voiced my desire to surf, I was met with a firm “No”. The sea was dangerous, surfing was tough, and subtly added, “not for girls”. So, I was sidelined, and my dream was benched.

Years yearning for the sea.

Years rolled by, I moved to Israel, to the sandy desert but my love for the ocean didn’t change zip codes. Amid the desert, I discovered a new rhythm with a different kind of partner - horses. I channeled my energy into riding horses instead of waves, that allowed me to build confidence and the energy to independence the power to hold the of my life. But that's another story for me tell.

Yet, the longing for the surf echoed in my heart.

Whenever the opportunity presented itself, I’d escape to the beach, watching the board-riders from afar, perpetually dreaming of the day I’d join their ranks. Though far from the sea, its energy coursed through me, manifesting in my art and life. I was a soul surfer, albeit without a surfboard, dancing to a rhythm written in sand and waves - all part of my Maktub.

Dream come true and a surfer was born.

On my 30th birthday, after we moved next to the sea for two years already and steel didn't surf. I made a choice. No more longing looks at surfers or daydreaming about riding waves. I got myself a surfboard and dove right into the sea. I tuck tree lesson and new that's a path that I m going to explore. I felt that at last dream and reality begin to merge. A new start. Talk about a 30-year-itch, right? what a ride that was...

The truth is coming out at last!

Three years of daily surf later, i grab my courage with my both hands and finally told Uncle Cham that I'm a surfer. How will he react? will i be able to talk him in the fact that surfing took a big place into my life and even that the fact that i m a woman actually helps me understand the waves in many ways that men will never understand, that i m a surfer in soul. I've had prepared myself for a long and tumultuous conversation long before it took place.

I could hear him smiling on the other side of the phone and the answer "i m so proud of you"

I was chocked! All those years hearing about the danger of the sea all the times seating on shore watching the boys having a blast. He was proud? All the fear that I've built around it , all the question that ive been asking myself ...was it because i wasnt good anough? was it because i was a girl really? was it because the ocean was that dangerous? All the waves that missed, all the times that he could have teache me.

I actually didn't say anything i couldn't as i paddled into that wave i just let him speak. He was very proud as he said, His concerns weren’t about me riding the waves, as he Sayed but about the unpredictability of the sea. He made promise to never get in alone to be centered into myself His protective streak had painted my path, but Maktub’s philosophy was my compass.

As we wrap up this chapter, I encourage you all to step out of the shadows of your ‘should nots’ and ‘cannots’. Life is like the ocean, full of waves big and small, some we ride, others we watch go by. My journey from the sandy beaches of Morocco to riding waves has taught me that ‘No’ isn’t a full stop, but a mere comma in our story. So, let’s pick up our surfboards of dreams and aspirations, and plunge into the sea of possibilities. Remember, it’s not about being a pro at surfing from day one, but about daring to surf. As we part, I want to leave you with a tantalizing sneak peek of my next post, where we’ll exchange surfboards for reins and dive into my adventures with horses. But until then, remember to paddle out into your own sea, dance with your own waves. This is your story, your Maktub. Ride on, folks!