I have always considered waves to be one of the most beautiful aspects of nature to exist.
Their constant motion and ability to start over again and again in spite of whoever looks on exemplifies resilience to me, and I have loved this idea because it was a needed reminder that people always have the ability to move forward, as long as they let themselves do so.
I have struggled for a long time with recovering from receding waves and getting back to my goal of reaching the shore. With each setback, such as a bad test grade, harsh criticism from a coach, or a failure to meet social expectations, I feel like a piece of driftwood, floating farther and farther until I cannot even see the glistening sand. And if I fight against the water, with a steely expression and a naive innocence that the water is going to guide me, the stinging bruises left on my skin instill a fear in me to never try again. Fighting a miserable, one-sided argument day after day leaves no room for appreciating all my achievements, as I never look back to see how close I have gotten to the shore. I can only fixate on the fact that I have not reached it yet. But the only thing I need to overcome are the mental limitations I have set for myself. I need to realize that no one asked me to fight the waves, or to reach the shore. I define my purpose and must execute it accordingly. I do not have to wait for the water to embrace me; I can dive in headfirst and let the waves wash over me.