Different Shores; Same Sea

Where the water meets the soul.

The ultimate lineup - aloha from Waco!

We all come from different worlds, yet we are essentially the same. That’s what I came to realize during my recent surf trip to Waco, Texas (and yes, I know what you’re thinking — surfing in Waco?).

From Taiwan and Japan to Hawaii and states outside of Texas, we all converged for the ultimate “bro trip” (as my daughter called it), smack in the middle of the Lone Star State, where one of surfing’s best-kept secrets exists: Waco Surf — a tiny mecca of man-made waves.

But it was more than a surf trip. It was a chance to rewind the clock — to be 18 again, back when we were just figuring out life on an island, far away from the places we once called home. For me, that place was Honolulu. I had more freedom than I knew what to do with, but with that freedom came something more valuable: the opportunity to grow. I learned more about myself in those years than I ever could have if I’d stayed in the safe, familiar confines of El Paso — my hometown, surrounded by family and lifelong friends.

But “safe” doesn’t always equal success or growth. I believe we often discover who we truly are when the chips are down — when adversity hits. That’s when we learn how to solve problems, think independently, and figure our stuff out.

Leaving El Paso made me love it even more. It helped me appreciate the cultural parallels between Hawaiian and Mexican-American communities — especially the shared emphasis on family, respect, and tradition.

Most importantly, those early years gave me the chance to meet some of the most outstanding people I’ve ever known. And what blows my mind — nearly 50 years into life — is that we’re all still connected. Fantasy football, trash talk, the births of our children, the heartbreak of lost friendships and failed marriages — we’ve shared it all. Nothing’s off-limits in this group. Divorce, work, mental health, the joys and challenges of aging — we “talked story” like no time had passed.

And I was reminded — even as someone with a master’s degree in Communication — that the most important part of communication is listening. In a world quick to post, argue, and react, we often forget to pause and try to understand where someone else is coming from. A friend who’s lived in Japan for 17 years or Taiwan for 20+ is going to see the world differently than I do. Socially. Politically. And that’s okay. It doesn’t make them wrong or bad. The same is true of my neighbor down the street who votes for a different political party. We’re different, sure, but we’re also the same — sharing a system of deeply overlapping values. Different shores; same sea.

As often happens when we rewind the clock, we find ourselves wanting to freeze time. To stretch the moment. We had more sharing to do. More laughing. More surfing. More just being together.

As Mike Mullins, Hawaiian surfer extraordinaire, put it:“I guess it’s time for the worst part of the trip.”

That was the moment we said aloha and went our separate ways. But we all left more fulfilled than when we arrived. And for that — for this band of brothers, both present and missing — I’m forever grateful.

I can’t wait for our next trip.

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