“ Better waves make better surfers. Are you on the right beach? ” - Seth Godin
So here’s the thing. If you're not getting better, maybe it's the beach - not the surfer.
At first glance, it seems like a motivational nudge: go where the action is. But if you sit with it long enough, like staring at a wave on the horizon or tracing the arc of an ensō in Japanese calligraphy, it reveals something profound about human performance, flow states, and purpose.
Surfing, as a metaphor, is more than recreational poetry. It’s a lived practice in sync with nature’s rhythms and a balancing act between chaos and control. You don’t manage the ocean. You tune into it. You train your body, yes, but more importantly, you refine your awareness.
Your dream job is still a job. Consider surfing professionally. It’s the same magnificent waves, but now with deadlines. Skin cancer risk from endless sun exposure. The inevitable bruising wipeouts. Sand infiltrating everything you own. Territorial locals guarding their home break. Sponsors demanding bigger tricks and more IG content. Critics analyzing your technique, style and authenticity. And tomorrow? You'll gladly do it all again, even when conditions are terrible, your body aches, and your motivation has washed away with yesterday's tide. The flow never ceases.
So where do you escape when your escape has become your prison? You don’t. You lean further in. The way out is through.
Remember this: what feels like monotonous routine to you might represent someone else's ultimate fantasy. If I can turn my perspective around, the freedom to pursue craft, to control creative output, to build something meaningful - all become privileges worth embracing rather than lamenting.
Elite surfers don't randomly paddle out anywhere. They meticulously monitor wave forecasts and tides. They discover the best beach for each specific moment that both complements and challenges their abilities and aspirations. And this principle applies to anyone pursuing excellence in any field.
It's only a job if you treat it that way. So think about dialing up the gratitude. The privilege to do our work, to be in control of the promises we make and the things we build, is something worth cherishing.
I didn’t go to college for a few years after I graduated from high school. I worked at a few different jobs - as a proofreader at the local newspaper, as a landscape and sprinkler installer and as a part time staffer for a local concert promoter - where I met Gary Propper.
In the mid 1960’s, Propper established himself as the Eastern Seaboard's first surfing star, making the most of Cocoa Beach’s small waves on this way to becoming the highest-paid professional of his era. Fellow Florida surfer Mike Tabeling aptly described him: "Gary was a hotdogger in every sense of the word. He was flamboyant and cocky, had the muscle tone of a jaguar, and there was nothing he couldn't do on a board.”
As a member of Dick Catri's Hobie team, Propper soon had his own signature model board, which became the world's best-selling signature ride. You can still order a custom Gary Propper model from Hobie via their website today. This success, combined with his various sponsorships, earned him $100,000 in 1967, equivalent to nearly $800,000 today, cementing his status as a professional surfing icon.
Until it was time for him to find a new beach. Over and over again.
In the 1970s, he pivoted to entertainment promotion under the mentorship of legendary San Francisco concert promoter Bill Graham. Propper then began booking emerging artists like Devo, Blondie, and The Police as a VP for Fantasma Productions in Florida.
The 1990’s brought Propper his most significant financial success when he - get this quantum leap - acquired film rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles comic book characters. This move led to an extraordinarily successful film franchise, with Propper handling multiple aspects from production to script development and promotion.
For GP, there was always another surf break to be had, you just had to go find it.
Years later, Cocoa Beach’s small waves birthed another surfing giant, Kelly Slater.
Growing up surfing on the East Coast was seen as a disadvantage by many, but Slater viewed it as an asset. While others doubted him because of where he learned to stand sideways on a board, he found that mastering those challenging conditions expanded his capabilities as a surfer. The East Coast's smaller, shorter waves with tight sections forced him to develop a different approach to reading wave patterns compared to those who grew up on perfect points like the Gold Coast or Rincon. Though it may not have defined his flow, navigating these difficult conditions significantly enhanced his technical versatility and ability to execute maneuvers effectively.
In his early teens, Slater dominated competitions along the Atlantic coast, and at 14, he won both the Boys’ and Pro divisions at the Eastern Surfing Festival as an amateur. Slater turned pro at 18, immediately making an impact by winning the Body Glove Surf Bout at Trestles, and earning a contract with Quiksilver.
Slater’s breakthrough came in 1992 when he won the Rip Curl Pro in France and the Pipeline Masters in Hawaii, becoming the youngest world champion in surfing history at age 20. Over the next decades, Slater amassed an unprecedented collection of titles, setting records as both the youngest and oldest world champion, and redefining high-performance surfing.
Beyond competition, Slater has built a diverse business portfolio. After a long partnership with Quiksilver, he launched the sustainable apparel brand Outerknown, He has also invested in ventures such as the beverage company Purps, surfboard brands Slater Designs and Firewire, the sandal company KLLY, and Yorks, a recycled lumber business.
Perhaps his most ambitious project is the Kelly Slater Wave Company, which developed a revolutionary artificial wave pool, Surf Ranch, located in Lemoore, California. This facility, acquired by the WSL in 2016, has set new standards for man-made waves and expanded the reach of surfing far beyond the coasts. Slater’s journey from the mushy waves of Cocoa Beach to global surfing icon and entrepreneur has left an indelible mark on the sport and its culture.
The lesson remains the same, though. Sometimes, you might need to find a new beach.
Your environment - the people, the tools, the timing, the level of challenge - shapes your growth. Psychologist Kurt Lewin said it best: “Behavior is a function of the person in their environment.”
In other words, you could be the most capable version of yourself, but if you’re paddling on a flat sea, you’re going nowhere. And in the world of peak performance, this is the connection between effort and alignment.
In Zen Buddhism, the ensō is a hand-drawn circle created in a single stroke of ink. It is often open, unfinished, symbolizing imperfection, the universe, and the moment when the mind is free to let the body create. Monks and artists train for years, not to perfect the shape, but to empty themselves enough to let it emerge naturally.
The ensō, like a wave, is a practice in presence. It demands that the body be ready, the brush well cared for, and the heart surrendered to the now. The ink doesn’t lie. There’s no editing. It’s a pure capture of you in that one second.
In this way, the ensō is also a diagnostic. It tells you: Are you in flow? And are you fighting the moment or riding it?
This is what Godin’s quote is really poking at. If you’re not getting better, maybe the problem isn’t you. Maybe it’s the beach you’re at.
Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, the father of flow psychology, famously outlined the sweet spot where skill meets challenge.
Too much challenge, and you get anxiety. Too little, and you drift into boredom. Flow happens in that narrow window where the wave is just right - fast enough to test your reflexes, but not so fast it destroys you.
Neuroscience confirms this. In flow, our prefrontal cortex - the part of the brain responsible for self-criticism and overthinking - goes quiet. We experience transient hypofrontality allowing instinct, creativity, and deep focus to emerge. Dopamine and norepinephrine flood the brain, sharpening attention and motivation. Time becomes infinite. The self vanishes.
But here’s the catch - flow isn’t something you stumble into. It’s something you design for.
If you’re in an office filled with distraction, a relationship that saps your energy, or a town that misunderstands your vision, you’re not likely to find it. You’re paddling in a storm or floating in still water. Not flow. Only frustration.
What you might need is a better beach - a context that gives rise to your best self.
Consider the story of Laird Hamilton, big wave pioneer. When he wasn’t finding the waves he needed in Hawaii, he helped invent tow in surfing - using jet skis to chase 50 foot monsters no paddler could reach. He didn’t wait for the right beach. He built it. Then he invited others to join along.
Or take the tale of Teshima Island in Japan, where the now famous Teshima Art Museum sits like a water droplet in the hills. Architect Ryue Nishizawa and artist Rei Naito designed it not to house art, but to become art, open and quiet, attuned to the wind and rain. Visitors sit, listen, breathe. The experience changes you. The museum is the wave. The viewer is the surfer. The environment creates the transformation.
Many people chase purpose like it’s a noun, something to find and hold onto. But what if purpose is more like a current, a direction? You don’t find it. You feel it when you’re surfing the right wave.
The Japanese concept of ikigai isn’t a perfect fit for everyone but here’s the basics. Blend what you love and what the world needs with what you’re good at and can be paid for. When all four converge, that’s the wave for you.
For a nurse, it may be the soft rhythm of palliative care. For a coder, the elegance of clean logic. For a father, it might be the joy of witnessing his child’s curiosity. And for an artist, the silence after the brushstroke.
If you’re not feeling alive in your pursuit, consider: Am I at the wrong break? Or am I surfing the right beach, but with the wrong board, mindset, or crew?
Sometimes, the beach you’re on isn’t inherently flawed, it’s just no longer right for you. As we grow, the waves we need may change. A startup founder may thrive in chaos at 30, but long for stability at 50. An elite athlete may chase podiums, then pivot to mentoring. The beach didn’t fail. It just served its purpose.
This is why awareness is a core skill of high performers. It’s not just about setting goals. It’s about assessing conditions. Are the waves helping you grow? Or are they diminishing you?
The Navy SEALs say, “Slow is smooth. Smooth is fast.” You don’t always need to hustle harder. Sometimes, you just need to move to a different beach.
If better waves make better surfers, then the work is twofold: train your surfing, and curate your waves.
This is environmental design. Check the signal to noise ratio. It’s as much about subtracting noise as it is about adding stimulation.
Ponder thusly:
Are the people around me challenging me with love?
Do I have time for deep work, play, and stillness?
Is my workspace aligned with my values?
Do I feel energized or depleted by my daily routine?
Designing for performance means protecting your energy, clarifying your direction, and daring to walk away from beaches that don’t serve you, even if others are thriving there.
For the ensō, the practice is not to draw a perfect circle, but to become so attuned to the moment that the circle draws itself.
As for surfing: the practice is not to dominate the wave, but to dance with it and let its energy carry you further than you imagined.
And to circle back to Seth Godin: the practice is not just to become better. It’s to seek and shape better waves.
Then ask yourself:
Am I on the right beach?
And Sometimes the Beach Changes For You
When the Greek freighter Amaryllis ran aground in front of the Rutledge Hotel on Singer Island, Florida in 1965, it launched a three year run as the best left break on Florida’s southeast coast before being reefed off the coast.
Sometimes, the beach changes for you with absolutely no effort on your part - and timing can be everything.
Surfing is a Treat to Behold
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Fifteen minutes of Free Flow with Jai Glindeman.
The Endsō