The waves are only a metaphor

This morning, I decided to seize the sunshine, as it attempted to break through the clouds. I let it draw me to the beach where the tide was out further than I had ever seen it; after being higher than ever a mere 10 days ago.  The rocks were still wet and slippery, so I chose my path carefully.   Never-the less, as I hiked along the rocks from beach to beach; the closer I got to my goal, so nearer and more threatening came the waves, until 20 yards from safety, they were at a peak and I could no longer turn back. This, too, is a metaphor for my life. I have finished one job and am on the brink of another-by choice.  What will my future hold? Sandy beaches?  Slippery rocks?  More choices and decisions?

At one point this morning, I chose flat sand in place of slippery boulders.  I waited for the ebb and flow of lapping waves, knowing that a miscalculation on my part would soak me to the ankles – this in winter, and at the most distant point from home and hearth. I stepped, and stepped again, and did not slip nor did I get wet past the soles of my walking shoes. “I will go forward,” I said.  “I will make choices and calculations.  I will step into the water. I will reinvent myself.  If I do not like the result, I will dry my shoes and socks by the fire and begin again.”