I remember visiting my Grandma in Laguna Beach fairly often as a young child. Rocky beach, cold water and an intense current. Doesn't sound that great but I used to love testing my aquatic strength against the tide. At ten years old each wave became a challenge to prove myself as a man. For the most part I was pretty good at diving underneath the waves, floating over the rollers, and even occasionally body surfing a good set or two.
But every so often I was humbled. Apparently God didn't see fit for me to upstage nature with my display of bravery and heroism and would occasionally conjure up a rogue wave to deny my ambitions and crush me. I remember on specific incident in which the wrath of God approached me in what seemed to be a 12 foot wall of water. As the force of wave took me under I was tossed and turned and flipped and spun into a state of confusion and chaos. I was held by the current. I seemed to spend minutes under water. I had no idea which way was up. Even if I did know I was no match for the tide.
It's been years since I found myself at the mercy of rogue wave. But occasionally life sends one my way. There's no way around it. I can't make it over the top and I can't swim under it. Suddenly I don't know which way is up.
No matter how many times I got swallowed by the sea as a kid it always ended the same way. Eventually I simply floated up to the surface. Sometimes bruised and battered but always alive. Right now I'm just waiting for nature to take it's course and float me.
Adam says you've been blogged.
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