How surfing helps some in Washington ride the wave of grief

COPALIS, Grays Harbor County, Wash. – For most, Sundays are spent browsing local farmers markets, flipping banana pancakes or gearing up for the week ahead. But for some, Sundays are for squeezing into wet suits, immersing themselves in 59 degree water and grappling with grief.

A group of 10 people gathered on a recent Sunday at Roosevelt Beach for a listening and surfing session with Waves of Grief, an organization that provides eco- and ocean-therapy support for people navigating grief in Washington, California and Hawaii. The donation-based organization offers a yearlong program during which participants gather on the second Sunday of each month.

“As a therapist, I think it’s important to have community, to normalize what we all go through as humans,” co-facilitator Sarah Carr said. “It’s important to express these emotions and process them with other people, because when we suppress or avoid them, it shows up in our bodies, in disease or mental illness, anxiety or depression.”

She leads the group with her husband, Caleb Carr. Each session, they guide a mindfulness walk, where members find something along the beach that represents what they’re feeling, as well as a group listening and sharing session and an hourlong surfing session in the chaotic Washington waves.

As cars rumbled onto the beach, participants were greeted with a dahlia-filled vase and Sarah Carr’s homemade blueberry lemon muffins. She introduced herself and the organization before directing participants to wander through the grasslands and along the water, finding something that speaks to them and their grief.

Once the participants obtained their items, each shared what the objects symbolized and what was weighing on their hearts that morning.

As Rochel Padron grieves the loss of her sister-in-law, she found a small flower among the vast grasses, a glimmer of beauty she felt represented her lost loved one.

First-time participant Randy Watson, grieving the loss of a relationship, found a crab shell with a hole in it. To him, it symbolized breaking out of his hard shell to be more vulnerable.

Yvonne and Bill Carver grieved for the planet after seeing and collecting the accumulated trash across the shore.

“This space is very meaningful to me, because I feel like there’s not a lot of spaces where we can really be vulnerable with each other and form community,” Turi Christensen said.

Christensen grew up with a parent struggling with addiction and was grieving the loss of having a “normal” childhood.

“Letting go of what we think might be the kind of life that would have been ideal is hard sometimes, and sometimes it feels unfair,” she said. “Waves of Grief has helped me work beyond that, and I can feel more at peace with the reality of life.”

The organization emphasizes that all forms of grief are important, welcome and accepted.

“Sometimes griefs are not what you expect them to be, but they’re still impactful,” Caleb Carr said. “We all create space to make room for the smaller griefs.”

The peer support group structure is what makes Waves of Grief special, Sarah Carr said, noting the process “normalizes emotions.”

“When you hear someone else share their experience, you feel more connected to other people,” she said.

The group sought support not only from each other, but from the ocean as well. It was time to paddle out, drop in and hang 10 on the Washington swells.

The surfers were met with pounding whitewash crashes and a strong rip pulling them south. The disorderly waves and wipeouts were forgotten, however, amid loud laughter and several wide smiles.

“You can’t control nature, you can’t predict the waves or conditions, just like you can’t predict the losses in your life,” Sarah Carr said.

Several hoots, whoops and cheers were sung across the surface as participants enjoyed the thrill of the fast-paced water and the frigid, but refreshing, temperatures. Not everyone surfed; Shannon Fox took the boogie boarding route with her grandson, Emerson. Rochel and Riel Padron watched their son Raiden learn the surfing scene from afar.

Sarah Carr said one of her favorite parts about the monthly event is what comes after being in the water.

“To see the joy that comes after a surf is really special,” Sarah Carr said.

The session concluded with devouring more blueberry muffins and describing what the ocean gifted participants in one word each.

Words shared included pride, lightness, strength, fun and cold.

“We cannot disentangle loss and love,” Sarah Carr read as part of a quote from writer Francis Weller.

“I think it’s a beautiful perspective to remember that when we grieve, that means that we have the capacity to love really greatly,” she said.