The secret to a bitchin’ ride

Here’s a poem I wrote during the boys’ annual ice fishing weekend:

Everything in waves.

You laugh in waves.
You cry in waves.
You live and die,
In waves.

Life,
It comes in waves.
Heavy and crashing.
Slow and cascading.

In rhythm.
In motion.
Flat.
Full force.

Everything in waves.

I wrote it thinking about how much is beyond our control.

About going against the current and wasting energy. Fighting the nature of things, sacrificing inner peace.

About acceptance, resilience, and intention.

Follow the flow

Some days you crest the perfect wave with sun on the horizon.

Some days you’re living free, hanging loose, bombing through the curl.

Then you’re drowning.

The tide is always changing—how you see the ocean is a matter of perspective, how you surf is up to you.

Accept it: life is a gremmie. It’s messy, unfair, and unpredictable. It doesn’t care about your plans.

Better to let go of the uncontrollable.

Best to ride the wave where it takes you.

Life rolls up and it crashes down. It rushes forward, slows, and stops.

You peak, you wipeout, you fight for the surface.

You endure—hightide, lowtide, no tide.

Wade it out.

Life is vast like the sea. Mostly unknown and master to none.

What’s certain is within you. Your perspectives, opinions, and decisions.

Nothing’s as bad as you think it is. Nothing’s as good, either. Zoom in, zoom out.

Festina lente—don’t rush, don’t wait. Never take it for granted. Good weather, the perfect wave, breath in your chest.

Don’t drift aimlessly or get dragged by the riptide. Carve purposefully towards fate.

Life chooses for you, but you still get a choice.

Pick a path. Plot your way.

Focus on what you control. Prepare for what you don’t.

Don’t get clucked.

Everything in waves.