Sofia Estrella, a writer and Certified NUSHU Group Facilitator, shares her transformative experience at the 2024 NUSHU Surf Retreat in the second part of her four-part guest blog series.
The plan was to boogie board.
As a teacher with chronic pain, I learned to manage fear with meticulous scaffolding. When my doctor cleared me to drive after back surgery, I first went to the library and ran other close-to-home errands, then started driving the thirty minutes to physical therapy, followed by finally making the hour-plus trek to New York City for social events.
Last year, on my first Surf Retreat to Costa Rica with NUSHU, I practiced standing in the ocean and navigating waves comfortably again. That trip inspired me to return to swimming, a sport I loved as a kid, but abandoned as my list of after-school activities grew. Now as an adult, I discovered freedom in the water that was unavailable on land and wanted to nurture that connection. Over a seven-month period, I went from struggling to make it across the pool to swimming a mile multiple times a week.
I longed to try surfing but felt terror about falling and reactivating pain. My careful planning had brought me so far, that I felt it important to continue with incremental goals. So for my next NUSHU Retreat, I decided to learn boogie boarding.
“Everyone else will be surfing, but I’m not ready for that yet,” I told my family and friends.
On the first morning of lessons, Tommy, a coach and founder of our surf school, asked if I felt comfortable learning the beginning surf skills and pushing my chest up to ride the wave on my stomach. He emphasized I could switch to the boogie board whenever I wanted.
“Sure,” I replied, eager to be a more advanced beginner for a future trip when I would be ready to surf.
After a lesson on the sand with Martín, another coach who explained technique with an animated, contagious passion for the ocean, he held the board as I shuffled tentatively into the warm water, feeling for rocks or surprise drops. I looked over to my “classmate” for the week, a woman I’d met on the previous year’s retreat and connected with deeply over meals, a waterfall, quiet reading together, and heartfelt conversations.
“How you doing, Sof?” Kat asked me now during our reunion in the water.
“Great,” I replied with a smile, exuberant over the ocean and support.
And then, after reminding me to look over my shoulder to check the wave, Tommy pushed me forward to glide towards the shore.
As I felt the wind and heard the rushing bubbles, I couldn’t help it. For the first time in years, possibly decades, I squealed with pure glee. Instead of wanting to escape moments because of pain, I finally wanted more presence. When I reached the sand, I looked around, squatted, and reminding myself to use my core, picked up my surfboard and returned to the Kat and our coaches in the water. With sand so soft, and no rocks in sight, I realized that even if I rolled off the board, my body knew how to be here. I could play here.
A few waves later, Tommy said I looked ready for the next step of standing.
It’s a few seconds that feel stretched into forever moments when we realize our prior limitations are now self-imposed.
As I used the new strength in my core, I also summoned the energy stored from years spent in bed, from rehabilitating what I feared was a permanently broken spirit, and I stood. On shaky legs, and with an awed heart, I stayed standing. I heard cheers and from the corner of my eye saw the photographer’s supportive smile.
When I tumbled off my board, I realized my body was going to feel sore from learning a new way of being, but with the absence of pressure and nerve pain that signaled back issues, I also wanted to keep trying. I looked up, and making eye contact with my new teachers, released all the tears for the part of me who worried that in my thirties, pain would dictate and limit the rest of my life.
“Thank you,” I cried, realizing that even though I’d desperately wanted to try, I also never really expected to surf. Ever.
Around the right people though, my preparation combined with their help and spirits formed a unique alchemy, making dreams an attainable reality.
Read Part Three
About Sofia Estrella
Sofia is a writer, NUSHU Facilitator, and Hatha Vinyasa yoga teacher. After earning her masters degree in education she spent nine years teaching in the classroom, until a back injury that placed her on disability. During this time of introspection, rest, and healing, she found NUSHU. Her intention is to lead conversations and experiences that foster connection and self-love. She writes essays about self-advocacy, struggles, and fulfillment with chronic pain. Sofia lives in Puerto Rico and loves swimming, reading, and her robust cat Brooklyn. Check out more of her writing on her Substack, Removing the Smileveil.
