The Sea of Life

Yesterday whilst swimming in the ocean I had a realisation about these last three and a half weeks in India. Bobbing in the surf I was letting myself rock over the waves. Sometimes they were low and easy to take on, gently rolling beneath me. Sometimes a wave would break in my face and splash me with bubbling foam. Sometimes I could see a tall wave coming and anticipate the height, pushing off the sea bed, comfortably sailing over the top and dropping down into the gap behind the wave. But there were some times when I wasn't concentrating or when I didn't read the surf right and a wave would suddenly climb on me, looming up above me like a dark cloud ready to break and douse me with salty raindrops. I panic, reach for my footing but the wave has already swept up my feet. I brace myself and prepare for the ride.
India to me has been like this wave. For fifteen months it lumbered towards me, always in the back of my mind, always on the horizon but at the time I had other, smaller, gentler waves to cross. When I passed through customs, I panicky scrambled for my footing, suddenly aware that I was being faced with a rising challenge that I would have to ride out, even if that meant getting dumped chest on the sea bed.

When swimming in the sea, some people like to body surf. Predict a powerful wave and swim as fast as they can in an effort to be swept up in the surge of the breaking, cascading energy. Some people like to bob in the water and feel the energy of the waves but not engage in the flow of the water. Others like to jump into the waves, feel the weight of the surf on their chest and push through the tide. Some people dip their feet and feel the wave's last moments shunt it's warm moisture onto their toes as they waltz along the hard sand.
If life is the sea, then how do we swim in it. Before I came here I used to approach life with my chest popped out, braced to feel the break on my upper body. I would try and fight the overwhelming shunt of the universe and stay solid in my way, my ideas and my hopes for what I wanted the future to be like. Sometimes that would work for, but more often Mother Nature would toss me a wave that climbs on me unexpectedly and flips me off my feet. Indians prefer to body surf. They take what comes but instead of trying to take on the universe they turn and body surf, build up momentum and ride the wave of life wherever it takes them. Their attitude is more about excepting their situation and making the best of their circumstances. They ride the wave wherever it takes them. This approach is sometimes flawed and we are in on means wrong for trying to take on the surf  but I think it must come back to wave selection.
You can't always body surf. If the wave is too small you can ride over the top, putting your spin on the situation. But sometimes, if the wave climbs quickly, rising in your face and you feel the world starting to sweep your feet from under you, why not turn and try to build up the speed to catch the wave, if you don't, you tried, and if you do, ride the wave. I think that I've been forced to ride this wave but I have loved it.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that sometimes in life we just have to go with the flow. Before I came to India that was something I was not good at. Sometimes we also have to be assertive or watchful or whatever way suits our environment. India has taught me that there are other ways of life in this world that are different to ours but aren't necessarily worse than ours. There are something's in his life we cannot change but we can change how we react to these things. How are we going to react to our conditions in New Zealand? And when a different situation arises how will we react to it in a way that we can be proud of? I suppose the moral of the story is don't be afraid to try it a different way, but make sure that whatever way you chose, you can be proud of your choice. 

Gus