A poetic rumination about the resilience and capacity you possess, for when it feels like you're sinking.


I watched the turbulence of the waves toss the boats from side to side, knocking the vessels from unsuspecting angles.

Water sloshing. Boats dancing.

What stood out to me was the grace with which the boats maneuvered the waves — seamless. Each wave. Every time. Riding the flow, finding their balance, remaining buoyant. Whether the water rocked, jostled, or tumbled the boats - they handled it. 

When you’re on the shore, it’s easy to see the waves aren't a threat. No matter how rambunctious the waves, the consequence is never sinking. No, that's not the essence of buoyancy.

Just like boats, we are buoyant. The degree to which were rocked doesn't mean we’ll sink. 

We - as human vessels - experience tides: highs and lows, periods of stagnancy, and periods of rapid change. We become fountains of apprehension, overflowing with anxiety, about the alterations we make to ourselves, our routines, and our identities in order to accommodate the waves.

In actuality, however, this is how we persist: by slipping into new motions fluidly; leaving fear and attachment to patterns, habits, or people behind as we’re gently rocked into new positioning. 

We can handle it. We will adapt before we will ever sink. Riding the waves, listening to the flow, and adjusting accordingly, we float on…

Buoyant and bobbing above the tides.