Controlling the Sea

I recently visited a town on the Jersey Shore and was surprised to find the beach completely transformed. The town, like many others, was rocked by Super Storm Sandy, and the few remaining vacant lots are poignant reminders of the storm’s devastation. Someone, the state or the residents, decided to protect the town from another storm and spend millions of dollars to dredge sand from the ocean’s floor and add it to the shoreline. The result is a wide beach never seen before, and I couldn’t help but wonder how long it would last. I do not blame people for wanting to protect their homes, and I hope the enlarged beach will succeed, but I learned when riding waves in that very ocean that the sea will do what it will, and it’s best to accept its fickle moods.

Sitting on the dredged-up sand, I thought about all the times and ways I’ve tried to control the sea. For much of my life, I believed I was in charge and set out to make my world and those around me (myself, too) comply with my particular vision. I know I’m not unique. Everywhere I look I see people trying to make the world around them comply with their expectations. From the devout parents who make their son go through a painful procedure to “get the gay out of him,” to the spouse who stays in an abusive marriage in hopes she can make her husband kind and understanding, there are many less dramatic examples as well. Like the coastal town, we think we can control the sea, and I just don’t know if we can.

I meet with a group of people who remind me that “acceptance is the answer to all my problems,” and I believe that’s true. There’s a big difference between acceptance and complacency, but I will write about that when I figure it out. For now, I want to let the efforts of one small town remind me of the ways I have foolishly tried to manipulate the sea and try to live the rest of my life with greater acceptance of people, places, and things. Releasing my clenched fists, I want to receive things as they are.