Wrapped up in a towel and relaxing under a gently balanced shack, he looked over the cobblestone beach and took note. There was not much to say, but the taller one knew the shorter one saw it too. Sitting under a gently balanced, partially decomposed shack on the cobblestones, somewhere on the coast of Taiwan, they sat watching wave after wave roll in unridden. They sat in utter contentment.

          Recently, mornings had started by peeking out from their tents. A sunrise awoke them by painting the sky above glassy surf. Racing to pack up their tents, they wanted to be first in the water. They could not bring boards on this journey, but that didn’t stop them from finding joy in the purest form of wave riding; bodysurfing. There is no form of oceanic play that compares to body surfing. The intimacy the rider experiences with the wave is surreal at times. Stripped down from any attachment of ego a board provides, they were settled with the perspective gained from floating unassisted in the water. Hour after hour they would alternate taking waves. Sometimes they attempted a maneuver or maybe tried to mimic the effortless way dolphins flow through the wave. Often times they would simply smile, and enjoy the glide.

          Several days had now been spent at this beach. With no set agenda they planned on hanging around until the swell fizzled out. Until then, there seemed to be no reason to leave. The spot was all they could ask for; tropical water, fun waves, a quiet empty beach, and a town nearby to fuel their oceanic pursuits. Both feeling a bit worn, from the trip and the countless hours spent swimming in the ocean over the past few days, they relaxed and savored this moment.

          With a recent affinity for the beach, they gazed over the sand as an emperor does over their domain. The salty and weathered kings of this castle sat in their shack and watched the show unfold before them. Beyond the shade that was thrown by their shack, cobblestones covered much of the beach. Waves would wash up and recede, revealing the dark soft sand being scrubbed through the white foam of the wave. The deep blue water was framed by a peninsula to the north, and a precariously rocky shore to the south. Wave after wave seemed to stack up in from of them. Nothing too impressive in size or quality, but each seemed to fit into the picture perfectly. As they soaked in the moment, time seemed to slow.

          The time to slow down and rest was greatly needed. The past few weeks were filled with traveling dozens of miles almost every day, melting as they pedaled through the hot humid air. This refreshingly different experience was savored by them both. Slowly they tuned into the leisurely pace of the moment. From here, a period of reflection seemed to grow. Slowing down provided them with a moment to turn inward. It allowed them time to recognize not only the value of the moment but where their values lie overall. This form of meaningful play, of riding waves, and of being in the ocean found it’s way to the top of their values. Realizing this, they wondered why.

          To those who would walk by or observe them from the bluffs above, these two foreigners seemed sorely out of place. That did not matter, for the experience was theirs and theirs alone. There is no reward after days spent under the sun and in the water. There is no tangible result from the act of riding waves. To the passers-by, it seemed the only thing to show for it was sore muscles and burnt skin. But those are not the reasons they pursued such activities with such passion.

          Someone once compared these acts of meaningful play to art. People decorate and hang pieces of art on walls, but for what purpose? For some reason, it feels nice. It provides something unique and individual to those who pass by and appreciate it. Remembering this, they reckoned being in the ocean is similar. It can stir something from within. It provides a reflection of whatever one puts into it or needs at the time. This practice is dynamic, and chemically addictive, while providing a sense of respite and serenity amidst the foam and spray of the waves.

           Thoughts like these continued to direct a discussion between them as they rested their muscles and sought refuge from the sun. Hours passed by, filled with conversation, food, music, and cigarettes. As the desire to get back in the ocean grew, almost on cue, the wind shifted. The sun would be setting soon, and the lightly groomed waves now beckoned them. Emerging from the peanut gallery of their shady castle, they dawned the pre-surf ritual. Change into boardshorts, put on sunscreen, do some brief stretching, and grab the fins. Getting to the water’s edge, they realized there was no need to rush into the surf. The two of them intended to savor the moment and appreciate the opportunity to slow down.