I sat at the end of the beach where the sand meets the surf watching a lone surfer in his 40’s or so, patiently sitting on his surfboard waiting for the right wave to come along.
I gotta tell ya, he sat there a long time. Waves passed him by that I thought were good for the picking.
I was getting a little ancy, wondering what he was waiting for.
The ocean was pretty mellow, so he just sat there, waiting.
Hanging out on the water, feet dangling over the board, looking out over the horizon. He was pretty chill.
So why was I getting ancy?
Come on already dude, ride a wave!
Why couldn’t I just sit there and relax and let the surfer do his thing?
Why did I think I was a wave expert all of a sudden? I’ve never even been on a surfboard!
Although I did do a ton of boogie boarding when I was a kid for many summers, so I do have some “expertise” in wave choices.
It made me realize that it’s always so easy to judge someone else and what they should be doing that’s best for them when in reality we don’t know shit.
It’s their ride, so just let them decide when to have it and stay out of their business.
After about 10 minutes, the surfer rode a wave.
It was an okay ride – nothing to write home about.
And then he got out of the water and left the beach.
All that sitting and waiting for what? One wave?!?!?!
Then I realized perhaps it wasn’t about the ride, but the waiting for the ride, that was the important part for him.
Is it possible that the waiting, the preparation, the process can be even more rewarding than the actual doing, the ride itself?
Something to think about as I sit at the end of the beach where the sand meets the surf…
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