Out of the Wilderness

The thing about the ocean is that it never stops trying. It already covers about 71% of the earth’s surface, but it always wants more. Think about the last time you were at the beach… the ocean was trying to wash up farther and farther, right? Not to be discouraged, though, it’ll move to another beach and try there, too. We call it “tides” but I think it’s just another oceanic attempt to cover more land. This behavior is not unlike our own as humans. A lot of our success and even our self-worth is determined by how much ground we can cover, how much we can acquire. We are measured, we keep scores, we have watches with chronographs on them to record how fast or slow something happens. If we meet a roadblock, we’ll try to find success some other way or somewhere else. Like the ocean tide, we persist. We push and push, then go somewhere else and do it again.

Thinking about the neighborhood I live in, most homes are either your first house, or your last. There’s not much in between. I’m part of the group that is hoping to eventually move to a bigger house in a better neighborhood. The other group doesn’t plan on leaving the neighborhood until they leave the earth altogether. They’re satisfied with their lives, and for that I applaud them. They’re the lakes of society. I’m not there yet. I’m still an ocean seeking more. I have tsunami moments where I try too hard, harming things around me. I have thunderous moments that turn out to be duds. I can be cold and uncomfortable or warm and inviting. I can be rough and dangerous, or calm and peaceful. I can wreck stuff if I’m not careful. I’m shallow. But I can be miles deep. It’s all part of the maturing process and learning to live with boundaries. Two things are for sure, though, the ocean won’t stop trying to reach dry land and I’ve still got a fur piece to go before I settle for lake life.