I did not know when I booked a trip to Hawaii in December that it would fall in the middle of so many important projects – each like a precious jewel requiring constant attention and regular polishing.
How could I put one down for a frivolous vacation? Yet, I’m not one to go back on my word or undo plans already set into motion, and a part of me knew I was being called to the island for some reason.
I thought this trip was about reclaiming my power.
I thought it was about learning to live with a broken heart.
But things are never what you think they will be.
I stood in the surf and felt the tide rolling in and out, consuming thighs and fingers and then pulling them into its depths.
As it surged and diminished around me, I marveled at its frequency – so dependable, so confident.
The water did not rush. It did not seem anxious as is it crashed on lava rocks smoothing their roughness to over time turn them into pebbles and soft sand. It did not say, look what I can do! I will do it even faster to impress you! The ocean’s craftsmanship was accountable only to the weather, the moon and its own ebbs and flows.
I floated in that water and felt my body pushed and pulled. As I struggled against the power of the current, my friend called out, “You have to let go, my friend. Let it take you. Ride it.”
It was then, floating and fighting the water that the reason for my voyage became clear.
This trip was about surrender.
Back home, I’d been diligently polishing my precious stones, picking up each one expectant that with enough elbow grease it would shine. Soon I would raise my efforts to the sky, beacons of self-worth and success, and all would ooh and ahh.
But grand things are not made in desperate ways. They take time and a consistent, unhurried showing up – a kind of slow dedication that comes from the confidence of solely being accountable to the moon and one’s own internal ebbs and flows. There’s nothing to prove; no one to praise the jagged edges you’ve made smooth with time.
It is this kind of no-big-deal consistency to return to the things that call us that eventually carves and creates – even when it appears that nothing impressive is happening.
Just as the sand is a beautiful byproduct of the ocean’s constant response to the elements, often we have no idea what the fruits of our showing up will bring. In our own lives, there may be a “goal” in mind but something entirely different comes forth when the always- present unexpected come into play.
We are in this flow whether we find such an idea comfortable or not. So, why not trust, surrender and enjoy the ride?