The Waves of Connection
A Summer of Unfulfilled Longing
When I moved to O‘ahu in August, returning to the island where I was born, I carried the excitement of rediscovering my roots and immersing myself in the rhythm of the ocean. But by December, I had surfed only once, and even then, I didn’t catch a wave. Surfing, the heartbeat of island life, seemed elusive.
Early on, I reached out to Kayla, a colleague, for advice. Where could I find a board? What were the best spots for a returnee like me? She shared a few ideas, but none led to success. Instead, our conversation turned to a mutual curiosity: the impact of artificial intelligence on human connection. That spark led us to collaborate on a study. We applied for a grant, won it, and suddenly, I had a research partner. Yet the waves waited, untouched.
Invitations from Unexpected Places
Months passed, and my work deepened. Then, through a former graduate assistant applicant, I met Jamie. She was a surfer like me and eager to connect over shared interests. Jamie had heard about my work in horticulture and mental health and approached me for mentorship on her honors research project. Before long, I was guiding her through the design of a study that explored not just the clinical side of horticulture therapy but its potential to reshape identity and foster belonging.
Two months into our partnership, Jamie extended an unexpected invitation: “Want to come surf my favorite spot?” The simple gesture reignited something I’d been missing.
Later that week, my old friend Brandon called. We had met years ago on the Big Island, bonding over surfing during a turbulent time in his life. As his marriage unraveled and he struggled to navigate fatherhood, we found a connection in the waves and through conversations. Now, years later, we were both back on O‘ahu. He invited me to his favorite surf spot.
As we paddled out together, it felt like no time had passed. The ocean pulled us into the familiar rhythm of surf and friendship. Afterward, while packing up, I thanked a local barbecuing on the mouthwatering smell of his craft drifting from his grill. He smiled and offered us a piece of his craft. Ono, indeed!
Brandon chuckled saying, “People always want to be your friend, and then, after you talk, they just give you stuff or share their life stories.” I laughed, but his words lingered. Was it something about me? I assumed it was a privilege—that as a white guy so I appeared non-threatening. But that didn’t explain my connection to diverse communities. As I reflected, the answer emerged, clear and simple: I see love in all.
Finding the Waves Within
Later that evening, I caught up with Rick, another old friend. My first statement to him was, “Tell me all about it.” Startled, he asked if I had read his recent post about going to the ER, which I hadn’t. He called me intuitive. Maybe I was. Or maybe I just knew he’d been navigating life’s transitions since our last conversation. I reminded him of his gift: the ability to sincerely bring out the best in others.
I saw that same gift in Brandon. Despite his struggles, he embodied a relentless drive to understand himself and the world. He recently entered an MFT program, unaware of my own work as an LMFT. When I told him about my licensure work in the legislature over the past four years, he exclaimed, “How are we even friends?!” as if we lived in different leagues. But I admired him deeply: his fearlessness, imagination, and vulnerability.
And then there was Jamie, the mentee who wrestled with feelings of inadequacy as she designed her research. Her project had grown into something far more profound than she initially envisioned, and though she doubted herself, I saw her immense capability. Similarly, Kayla, another undergraduate research mentee doing work on an AI study, grappled with the fear of failing. Yet her raw potential was undeniable.
Through these relationships, I recognized something vital: in mentoring others, I am also mentoring myself. Their journeys mirror my own struggles to stay clear, grounded, and brave. Whether it’s climbing a rock wall to reach a surf spot, punching through relentless waves even though I’m out of breath, or simply struggling to keep track of daily priorities, I realize a truth:
I’ve got this. We’ve got this.
The waves, it seemed, had been waiting for me all along…not just in the ocean but within the connections I nurture. With every paddle out, every conversation, and every act of love, I am finding my way back to the shore of my own heart.
