I’m fascinated by the fact that whole generations just disappear. They start dying and all of a sudden all of them are gone. Like a wave that starts deep in the ocean, builds up speed, crests, and then crashes into the shore and is gone. Everything seems like that…the beginning, the peak, the fall, the end.
We are wave riders. Riders without boards, just on our bare feet, trying to keep the momentum going, riding through the tunnels, under the spray, hoping not to get dragged under, but loving the excitement of the water above our heads. That’s what it’s all about…searching, looking for the thrill, trying not to die too soon, trying to make it to the next best thing, the next exciting thing, the thing that makes us want to ride the wave again and again. Without that, life is gray. It’s a one room, sit in bed with the blanket over our heads, kind of thing We have to get out there. We have to look into the ocean of life and dare it to come at us. We have to believe that we are able to get to the shore safely, or at least get there without too many broken bones and loss of blood. We know the sharks are all around us, but we have to ignore them and focus on our balance. It’s a beautiful thing.
If we fall, we get up and do it again. And again. And again.
When the wave finally takes us. Smile, let go, and know that the ride was worth it. Because that’s really all life is…one big ride on a never ending wave.