An in-depth documentary about a community of big-wave surfers has sent my Metaphor Meter into overdrive.

I’ve never surfed. Never even touched a surfboard. Never will. It’s not in my body, heart, or mind to give it a go. Make of that what you will.

Yet I relate on a deeply visceral level to the big-wave surfer’s approach to the sport. Heck, it’s so much more than a sport. It’s a way of shaping the world—and one’s life. This activity is an all-encompassing outlook, attitude, and value statement, all rolled into one.

Anyone who surfs some of the largest ocean waves on earth—up to 100 feet or so, as high as a 10-story building, but in constant motion—is shaped by the experience just as much as they shape their lives around doing this.

A cynic might say these people are chasing an adrenaline high and risking their lives to do so. There’s some truth to that, but that’s also too reductive, as there’s a lot more going on in the dynamic between the surfer, his or her board, and the wave.

Ah, the giant wave…unpredictable, majestic, terrifying…and most of all, ephemeral.

Let’s say the wave is the creative act. The surfer is the creator who makes meaning by coming into contact with the wave.

The result is a fleeting, spontaneous, spectacular burst of meaning. Significance is achieved—both in the mind of the surfer/creator and in the eye of the spectator.

It’s impossible not to feel something when you watch these surfers in action. They inspire awe, and isn’t awe—a word rooted in old Norse referring to terror, dread, extreme reverence, or veneration—what we seek and expect from art?

Is big-wave surfing, then, an art form?

If I say yes, does that mean big-wave surfers are artists?

Arguably, yes.

I’ve observed four habits of highly effective surfers that correspond quite neatly to writers and other artists. These habits are foundational; without all of them, I suspect the surfer would quit and move onto other things, as some do. The same holds true for writers.

Creative energy is a universal phenomenon. We may put it out into the world in vastly different ways, but across every format and genre, it’s all about human expression.

1. Fear is as Fear Does

A sane person watching a 100-foot wave thunder toward shore would look at it and say: Nope. Not touching that. It’s impossible. But surfers ride out to meet them, anyway—over and over again. Fear is real—and surfers admit that—but it’s also manageable.

“We manufacture fear in our minds by not living in the present moment,” big-wave surfing legend Garrett McNamara says.

As with self-doubt, one can act boldly despite fear, if other ideas are firmly in place, including knowing what you’re already capable of handling; visualizing positive outcomes; and remaining resolutely and intensely focused on any given moment, instead of catastrophizing.

"Whenever I'm on a wave, no matter how powerful or big it is, I'm in the zone and concentrating 300 percent,” says Justine Dupont, a world-class surfer. “I only ever think of the three or four meters ahead of me.”

2. Relentless Self-Improvement

Even surfers at the top of their game are never satisfied. They’re convinced they can do better, catch an even bigger wave, ride it longer, glide inside the barrel where the white foam curls over, creating a kind of water canopy. They practice year-round, driving themselves physically, spending hours strength-training at the gym, and then hours more on the water. They’re a perfectionist bunch, in some ways—and that attitude brings results.

Grit is the pathway to talent, not the other way around.

3. Internal Competition is Healthier than External

If you follow these surfers over several seasons, you see who is eaten up by jealousy when another surfer catches a “better” wave in competition. On the water, outward-facing competition is distracting, leading, in some cases to dangerous collisions. A healthier outlook is to work toward your personal best and not worry about what others do. The ocean itself—like the publishing industry!—is wildly unpredictable, anyway.

As Dupont wisely notes, "It's all about you and your relationship with the ocean, and not about you in relation to others."

4. Following an Inner Passion

Making art in any form begins with the artist’s passion. We don’t make art out of indifference but because we are drawn, even compelled, to express ourselves in a particular way. Surfers court danger and death because riding a wave is their deep and abiding passion.

"There's nothing I enjoy more than trimming high on a wave, standing as straight as I can, arms to the sky, soul connected, heart open, feeling the power of the sea," says surfer Leah Dawson.

Passion is the starting point, the lift-off, for every artist—even if that means facing fear and danger, whether that’s psychological or physical.

WRANGLING THE DOUBT MONSTER: FIGHTING FEARS, FINDING INSPIRATION