My small steps began on the board, in a sea that morning calm, yet never truly predictable. I entered without big ambitions, only to try, to fall, and to try again. The waves came gently, sometimes allowing a brief moment of standing, sometimes knocking me down without warning. Every fall taught a simple truth: the ocean doesn’t need to be conquered, only understood. Breathing found its rhythm, the body learned to listen, and the mind slowly grew more patient. There weren’t many long moments of standing, but there was a real sense of moving forward. Step by step, I learned that surfing isn’t about results. It’s about the courage to keep returning to the sea, respecting the process, and going home with a heart a little calmer than before.