Yogis follows Saltwater Buddha here, picking up in his early twenties with a broken heart and no direction. He goes to a monastery in Dharamsala and meets Sonam, a Tibetan refugee, and hatches a half-baked plan to get him to America and back to his family. It fails, and watching Sonam absorb that failure teaches him more than the meditation does. From there, he surfs Indo, sits with Franciscans in New York, walks Jerusalem, and stalls out on a Mexican beach where good waves, tacos, and nothing to do turn out not to fix anything either. The two friends meet again by a coincidence he couldn’t have engineered. It’s a surf book and a religion book at once, and he’s honest about how little he resolves.
All Our Waves Are Water