Oh to Control the Waves

April's been a challenging month for me, a month made challenging by my emotional highs and lows.  I’ve grown accustomed to these swings over my 64 years of breathing, but April has stirred tsunami-level waves and I am…. more than a little  bruised while sitting in my perch looking over the metaphorical landscape.

I’ll admit, it may be slightly hyperbolic to reference a tsunami having never seen or experienced one directly.  But I spend a lot of time near large bodies of water, observing signs of what has happened before, imagining what may be possible now or later in. And I’ve heard and read enough to believe my analogy is appropriate. What I hear is, things seem ok, then the sea withdraws for something like an unexpected low low tide. And then, with no visible signaling, the kind a surfer watches to select their route and ride, the sea unleashes its pent up energy. And the shore pays a significant price.

Yeah, that sounds like April

Anyway, as part of my self-guided therapy, my habit of focusing on something tangible to aid reflection on something I can’t hold and touch, I carved another head out of a rock I found at a beach. As is typical, I looked for a piece of driftwood that might serve as its body. Atypically, I didn’t actually commit to any piece, mostly because I didn’t want to add to the heavy load I was already carrying. Instead, I tried the rock out on a few pieces of wood, took photos then kept on walking with no new baggage, maybe a little more insight about the waves I receive, the waves I create.

I have reached no conclusions about the body, the cause of the tsunami, who I am or what I will do with my large-scale emotions. But I am again made aware that things pass, things change, things heal, and that waves will return, doing what they do. Sometimes it’s fun to ride those waves. And sometimes it is not.