I remember a trip to the beach almost 30 years ago. Michael and I spent a day at the Delaware National Seashore. I liked going out beyond the breaking surf and just floating in the swells as they passed by on their way to the shoreline. Michael liked to body surf. He’d catch a wave just right and ride it all the way in, just like all the kids were doing.  

I grew up on the beaches of Cape Cod. I took all the requisite swimming lessons. I’m comfortable in the water and a confident swimmer. But, the waves on this part of the eastern seaboard were new to me. Bigger and stronger. Michael looked like he was having a blast and I decided to try it. 

What happened next is still clear in my mind. I started swimming along with a swell and could feel it building. I quickly became aware of the power of this wave and for a split second questioned my decision. Suddenly I was being tossed and tumbled underwater. My face smacked into the sandy bottom and I lost my orientation to up. I panicked for a moment, got smashed into the bottom again, and then before I knew it I was heaped on the shoreline with a swimsuit full of sand. What the hell just happened? 

That’s what the last six months have felt like.

It’s already Labor Day and I feel like that day at the beach – tossed around, a little bruised, a little disoriented, wondering “what the hell just happened?” You?

I remind myself; you can’t stop the waves but you can learn to surf.

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