My old pal Brendon Gibbens texted me a screenshot of an old magazine spread this week asking if I knew who wrote it or where he could find it. It was a photo of him surfing, but on the page in pull quote size text was a journal entry type of scribble from an angsty 20-something year old kid. An angsty 20-something year old kid who is me.

He really liked the passage — it resonated with him. I plead guilty for writing it and while I did cringe at the passage (hard to read things you wrote) I think somewhere in the scrawl of a grindy surfer kid who still ate fast food and romanticized drunken poets and drank his water from the tap he recognized the somewhat cliche but important message: stay joyful in the moment. It’s all we really got.

I believe I was changing my daughter’s diaper when I got the message, probably had some of the mess on my hand, she was probably crying — not happy with the procedure — and I’m sure my shirt was covered in the sticky of blueberry/strawberry/banana breakfast, trying to envision a time later in the day when I wouldn’t have poop on my hand and berry stains on my shirt and maybe I’d be surfing or driving with a window down or sitting down to some fancy cocktail at a nice restaurant or some other charming bit of what we call good living.

I read Brendon’s text with the non-poopy hand. I had somehow just reminded myself that there was nothing better than being covered in poop and berries. Right now was awesome. “Later” was something I shouldn’t be polishing for my pleasure. It would have its own charms and challenges when it arrived. But right now, I had it all. I smiled — mostly at how often I wrote about fast food drive-thrus — tossed the diaper in the bin and did something spontaneous: Agnes and I went for a walk. And instead of dreading the phone calls of later or daydreaming about dinner, I appreciated every flower and giggle we shared.

I say all this because surfing is so rooted in the future. In “what’s it gonna be like.” Why’s it like this? Why’s it like that? We often mind surf ourselves into not going out at all. We forecast, predict, analyze and hype everything to death when just being there, at the beach and the opportunity to go in the ocean is all we need.

I’ve still yet to have a surf in my life — even the ones I can easily call “top 5 worst ever surfs” — where I come in and wish I didn’t have that experience. We’ve got it all, just don’t miss it because you’re living a week in advance through your Google calendar.

To quote an angsty 20-something: “The world ain't flat, and that’s not a sunset. Your happiness isn’t out there on the horizon.” It’s the poo from your daughter’s diaper. It’s running out to get your wife/girlfriend some chocolate before the movie starts. It’s unloading the dishwasher and watering the plants. It’s what’s happening right now. And yeah, this counts.—Travis Ferré