Comparison to Waves

Pounding waves roar as they crash violently against the face of a cliff that has long withstood it's rage. It gurgles out in defeat as the current pulls at the water to join the larger body. A fresh wave tried to go against this age-old foe and is constantly forced to admit defeat. Yet time and time again it comes back to be defeated and it never loses heart.

It does not know how to. Logically anyone can tell you that the waves have no emotion and therefore do not see this act as a sign of defeat because it cannot feel, it cannot think and therefore waxing poetic about a body of water in comparison to our lives is absolutely pointless.

And yet we do it anyway.

Countless times we compare eyes to the depths of the sea, emotions to the intensity of the waves, and minds to the boundlessness of the ocean. If this is nothing more than an entity of nature then why do we put so much effort into its description. Why do we compare our emotions, something intangible, to that of a tangible thing that has no capability of emotion?

For so long I have looked at the waves with longing, a peace of knowing that the water held no room for the loud noises, the incessant filler chatting of people who would forget about you a second later, and most of all the vastness of being where you could just float.

I have been compared to the body of water I love so much for so long that I am starting to feel a part of it. Which is why, in the creeping shadows of the evening sun I sneak away to the beach and escape. I find an outcropping of rocks far enough away to not get sucked in by the ocean but feel the slight tingling sensation as the wave jumps out to reach me.

I welcome what I cannot control but I need the moments of peace. Just like the water. It can be murky, hard to read and even harder to find the core of its intentions. It can be clear and almost vulnerable as it shows each and every creature, ever speck of sand as you swim through its depths. Each lap through the waves the water knows that you will not inhabit it for long, thus the presence of people in my life.

It can look lonely at times, vast and distant in ways that frighten people. When it speaks it shouts with the voice of millions ringing behind it because the secrets and stories it shows come with centuries of weight were you are brand new.

It can be quiet and inviting. It is in those moments where the most friends are near that the waves put on a show. They laugh and play right alongside you. Much in the same way do I.

I am in many ways like the ocean. I am in many ways different.

I will think on each and every one as I sit here on the rocks every single day, as the sun sets on yet another day for the waves to shine their beauty and their power. Even in the night the waves never tire. Neither do I. Some of my most outlandish schemes were planned right here.

Right at the heart of where I belong. Maybe it is not the worst thing to be compared to the ocean. After all, it is a favorite place of mine to be and I wouldn't want to be anybody else.

Especially in this moment, in this time in history, in this life.

What a great time to be alive!

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