OSC: What does the ocean give you that nothing else does?
CHRISTIAN JOHANSEN: From a biology background — life. And from a spiritual, more woo woo one — also life? I'm not sure, but I'm sure they're connected. Recognizing yourself as continuous with the living, natural world I think is the most rational thing a person can do. It’s not the individual ego expanding, but the self dissolving outward until the boundary between you and the ocean stops making sense. When I spend time in the water, I feel part of something larger and far more important than myself. I wouldn't say this feeling is distinct to the ocean though — mountains, rivers, glaciers, redwood trees, a whale — these awe-inspiring elements of our shared natural world carry inherent power. not power we project onto them, but value they hold independent of us entirely.
OSC: How do you know when to wait vs. when to go?
CHRISTIAN JOHANSEN: I think waiting and going are both acts of paying attention. It isn't about conquering an environment or even mastering it. It's about reading it closely enough that you stop feeling separate from it. The decision to go becomes less about you and more about what the water is actually doing.
OSC: What has surfing taught you about control?
CHRISTIAN JOHANSEN: That you aren't in it. We do the best we can to follow a course but inevitably things evolve — we adapt to our environment the same way one adapts to a wave. You surf the wave you're on, not the one you want to be on. There’s a Western instinct to dominate nature rather than participate in it. A wave doesn't negotiate. It doesn't accommodate your plan. It puts you in honest relationship with the natural world. Unless you're Mick or Kelly, then you just generate your own power on a wave — I'd rather surf like Feb or Gerry though.
OSC: Where do you feel most clear?
CHRISTIAN JOHANSEN: Outside is the cop out. Through movement. I believe clarity isn't something you find by going inward alone, you find it by going outward, far enough that the self gets quiet. Movement does that. It puts you back in your body and your body back in the world, where it belongs.
OSC: What keeps you coming back, even on bad days?
CHRISTIAN JOHANSEN: Whatever keeps me coming back, I'm glad it's there — because there are more bad days in the water than good. I'm not an exceptional surfer — in fact I’d categorize myself as an enthusiastic novice on my best outings, and on my worst days truly hope no one was watching…whatever the hell that was. But that's not really the point. The goal isn't mastery of the skill (or nature), but identification with it — and identification doesn't require skill. It requires presence. Surfing, skiing, running, yoga, freediving — these are all conduits to finding deeper connection with mind and body, and probably most importantly, to being present in the world around me. Getting good at any of them is frankly a byproduct of slowing down enough to focus.
OSC: What does “open space” mean to you?
CHRISTIAN JOHANSEN: The beauty of possibility. We all have a tremendous capacity to expand beyond our circumstances — our sense of self, our understanding of worlds not our own, our careers, relationships, interests, and on. It’s something bigger than personal growth — it’s the gradual recognition that your self doesn't end at your skin — that it extends outward into relationships, communities, ecosystems, until the boundary between you and the living world becomes genuinely hard to locate.
Beyond a literal vista, an open ocean, or the cosmos, Open Space speaks to our inner environment — which can be just as expansive, if not more so. The expansion of inner life and the expansion of ecological identity were the same movement. You can't fully open one without opening the other.
When climbing mountains, either literally or philosophically, it's so easy to miss the wonder of what's already at your feet. I work to remember that a single lichen on a rock, looked at with enough attention, contains as much inherent worth as any summit view. To sit in contentment with small things isn't a retreat from open space. It might be the most direct way into it.
In the end, the adventure truly lies within — and within turns out to be much larger than we thought. Large enough, eventually, to hold everything.