Serendipity at the North Shore (Oahu)

WSL finals 2018

Happy New Year 2025!

How have you been?

I’ve missed being here with you. But now I’m back for good and making a solemn promise to share at least one story with you every month.

Oh, and heads up—I’ll be packing my bags again very soon. This time, the destinations are going to be nothing short of incredible. I’m so excited I can barely sit still!

Now that the holiday madness has settled (I hope you had a wonderful time), I’ve been reflecting a bit—especially about Christmas and the season of magic.

After what felt like a thousand years, I went to see a Christmas parade again.

It was an explosion of lights, laughter, and wonder. Kids watched the floats with wide-eyed amazement, blissfully unaware that we adults had pulled all the strings to keep their belief alive.

(And honestly, if you think about it, it’s probably easier to believe a jolly guy in a red suit flies in with gifts than to believe we’ve all conspired to pull off such an elaborate show!)

And that’s when it hit me:

They know it.

Deep down, we know it.

We know how important it is to feel that spark of excitement—that magic.

Let’s start at the beginning.

Clutching my backpack like a shield.

The crinkle of boarding passes sounded like freedom and adventure. My blood buzzed with excitement.

This was me, six years ago, summoning the courage to take what felt like a trial run before my first big solo trip.

My ever-present companion? The fear of feeling alone.

I dreaded the heaviness of those rainy Sundays back home—the kind that makes the hours feel endless. But this time, I’d be across the world, completely on my own, surrounded by strangers. I kept wondering, “Is this even worth it?”

But the thought of seeing hula dancers, learning about Ho’oponopono (a ritual of reconciliation), and experiencing a traditional luau kept pulling me forward.

Step by step, I made my way to my seat on the plane, holding tight to the dream that had brought me there.

That Magical "Click" Moment

The part I love most about traveling is that “click”—the moment when everything shifts and I suddenly think, “Ahh, I’ve missed this.” It’s like reconnecting with my truest self and becoming part of something much bigger than me.

That moment never takes long to arrive.

“We’ve landed at Honolulu Airport. The outside temperature is 86°F. We hope you enjoy your stay.”

Mmm…I can still remember that first salty breeze mixed with the delicate scent of plumeria (you know, the little flower Hawaiian women wear in their hair, or the one everyone pretends to wear at tropical-themed parties).

A Bike, and the North Shore

I grabbed one of the creaky old bikes left for guests at the house. I felt important, free, and unstoppable as I pedaled along the coast, soaking everything in.

I imagine it’s how people feel riding in a limousine.

BOOOOOOOOM!

The thunderous sound of enormous waves crashing against volcanic cliffs was almost terrifying.

The sheer force of it, paired with the coconut-laden palm trees swaying above, made me feel small and powerful at the same time.

So much energy in one place.

The jungle hugged the shoreline so closely that it felt like nature itself was embracing the coast. The North Shore unfolded before me like a living postcard.

And Then...The Best Part

My first meal!

Well, my first, and my second, and my third…and probably my 30th. Almost all of them were poke bowls.

Oh. My. God. Delicious.

The supermarkets had deli-like counters just for poke. You could choose fresh fish, tropical fruits—whatever you wanted. It was heaven.

Of the 90 poke bowls I devoured, I don’t think I repeated a single combination.

(Yes, I partially judge my trips by the food. Finland? A 0. Bali? A 12.)

But back to the story.

The clonk-clonk of my bike echoed as I got closer to the iconic Banzai Pipeline.

I saw rows of people lining the beach. The microphone crackled with excitement; the air practically buzzed.

Watching those enormous waves rise from the shore, I felt awe and fear in equal measure. The surfers turned those waves into works of art.

A banner read: "World Surf League Championship Finals."

How had I not known this was happening?

In two minutes flat, I was all in.

I stood there, mesmerized, watching the world’s top surfers put on one of the most incredible shows I’d ever seen.

Even if you don’t care about surfing, it’s pure magic.

I couldn’t believe my luck. Was this real?

Unexpected Company

A few days passed. Despite the beauty surrounding me, I hadn’t made a single friend yet (which was rare for me).

But here’s the thing—the loneliness I’d feared before boarding the plane? It never showed up.

Not even a little.

I even searched my mental files, thinking, “Wait, aren’t I supposed to feel lonely right now?”

But nope—nothing.

The magic of it all had drowned out everything else.

I once read that when you’re aligned with your purpose, feelings like loneliness, anxiety, and fear simply…disappear.

Just as I was settling into that peaceful solitude, a cheerful voice with a Brazilian accent broke through:

“Are you here alone?”

Her curls bounced in the breeze. She was also traveling solo, and soon, we were chatting like old friends.

Before I knew it, we were hanging out with a group of 14 Brazilians, die-hard Medina fans.

Their hangout spot? “Oh, just right there,” they said, pointing to their place.

“Right there?” I thought.

Yep. Their house shared an outdoor shower with Kelly Slater’s place. What?! (Yes, that Kelly Slater—the pro surfer and eleven-time world champion.)

Magic in the Everyday

The next eight days felt surreal. Grills sizzling, waves roaring, pros riding mountains of water, sunsets that felt endless.

Life didn’t make sense anymore.

Jack Johnson stood behind me in line at the store. A taekwondo champion sipped a coconut on the beach next to me. Kelly Slater waited for me to finish rinsing off so he could wash his board in our shared shower.

What is happening?

In that moment, I realized we’re all connected—much closer than we think.

I wished I could bottle up that sense of wonder and share it with the world.

For the first time, I was living my plan. No one else’s. Full of excitement, not fear.

The universe was rewarding me with an adventure beyond my wildest dreams.

Why It Matters

That experience changed me. It erased any fear I had of being alone.

Fun fact: A couple of years later, I was at a random parking lot on the other side of the world when, out of nowhere, I saw him—Kelly Slater.

I couldn’t believe it. Of all places.

It felt like a moment of pure serendipity—as if the universe was reminding me of that incredible trip and everything it taught me: the magic, the spark of excitement, and the importance of creating a life filled with wonder.

The Illusion We Forget

As we grow up, we start confusing life with a pile of responsibilities that don’t fulfill us—most of which we never consciously chose.

We build lives full of stress, convincing ourselves that “this is just how life is” and that being responsible means carrying as much as possible on our shoulders.

But without that spark of excitement, we burn out. The excuses stop working, relationships strain, and dreams fade away.

I believe the world hasn’t just conspired to make kids believe in Santa Claus—it’s also convinced us that being responsible means waiting until we’re older to finally do the things that light us up.

But responsibility doesn’t have to mean sacrifice—it can mean choosing the life that sets your soul on fire.

We know this deep down. Otherwise, we wouldn’t put on such elaborate shows for kids.

So why don’t we prioritize our wonder?

I get it. It’s hard to make room for that spark amid so many invented responsibilities.

But we have to try.

With it, we can accomplish anything. We glow from the inside out. Love wins, and dreams come true.

Things even come your way effortlessly because you’re aligned.

We come back to life.

If You Forget How to Find It…

If you ever forget how to find your way back to that feeling, let me lend you mine:

Take a trip. Go to Hawaii. Miss your couch for a bit. And reignite your fire.

The spark is the answer.

In the meantime, you can always subscribe to my blog for more stories!

Subscribe to Angysworld for free