There is an old proverb that tells us that “The shoemaker’s children always go barefoot.” I thought about it today, as I contemplated the ocean from my wide living room window.

The reason why this emerged from my mind is because I have an old personal theory that somehow relates this ancient saying to my surfing life.

The concept behind the proverb is actually available in several world cultures.

In Portuguese, the closest adage is “Em casa de ferreiro, espeto de pau,” which translates to “In the blacksmith’s house, a wooden skewer.”

There are also similar versions in Spanish and French.

But here’s where I want to go: I think that it has been statistically relevant to me that surfers who live within walking distance to the beach or to their home breaks tend, with time, to surf less than they would if they lived inland and in the countryside.

My point is that the more we’re given the things we love in life, the more we appreciate them less or take them for granted.

Their intrinsic value to us tends to dissipate or slowly fade away; we undervalue what we’ve got.

I know that putting surfing in the same box as many other things we cherish so much could be a sin or blasphemy among my fellow surfers.

Too Much Could Be Just Too Much

My sincere apologies if it feels outrageous to you, but let me try to explain where I come from.

I see surfers coming in and out of the beach with their surfboards every single day.

I see surfers riding perfect waves almost every week; I see waves nearly every day of the year.

I am just surrounded by surf culture, and there’s not much I can do to avoid it. It would actually be weird to ignore it.

Does this “blessed” daily routine drain my will to surf, have fun, and get out of the water with a natural high?

I am starting to think that it does, and feeling like a spoiled surfer.

I hear voices: “You’re a privileged – cherish what you’ve got.”

I know. I do. But that’s not enough to change my mind. I am surfing less and less.

I inversely compare it with the toys and video game consoles I wish I had had for Christmas as a kid.

I wanted them so much that the fact I didn’t get them made me want them even more, to the point that I bought them as an adult when I got my first monthly salary.

Narcotizing Dysfunction

So, it is fair to say that the more you have the things you love, and they become a regular presence in your life, the less you enjoy them?

This psychological trigger might be easily explained by mental health specialists, but the truth is that I don’t seem to find a way to break this chain.

In fact, it reminds me of a theory called narcotizing dysfunction, proposed by sociologists Paul F. Lazarsfeld and Robert K. Merton, that suggests that as mass media inundates people with information on a particular issue, they become apathetic to it.

In my case, it’s something similar to it.

But I cannot close my eyes every time I enter the living room or kitchen. That would be really pathological.

I think you’d agree that we’ve got to be really into it, going surfing. Otherwise, our headspace will be all over the place.

And then, there are also times, when you really need to stay away and give surfing a break.

On top of everything I described above, I have friends regularly asking me if I have been surfing. And I feel obliged to say, “Yeah, here and there. During weekdays, it’s hard. I am working…”

The trick could be getting more in and out of the wetsuit, even if it means forcing myself to surf – just like that.

Because, ultimately, I will always say the same exact words after a pleasant or below-average session, “I must do this more often…”

I know that… But why do I get back to my surf indifference? Maybe there should be a couple of proverbs to match my condition.

“In a surf industry professional’s house, the board gathers dust,” or “Where the surf is daily, the surfer stays ashore.”

Which one’s your favorite?

Words by Luís MP | Founder of SurferToday.com