Fearlessly Riding the Waves of Life

“Through living in a space that we do not understand, everything may become meaningless, incoherent, and forcefully scary. If fear rules our lives, we lose the core of our being, since ‘fear’ disrupts the schedule of our existence and blocks the soothing waves of the sound vibrations.” —Erik Pevernagie

The theme for my online WhaleBreathing class this month was Water. That got me thinking about waves and I recalled when my daughter and I went to Half Moon Bay in California to watch the maverick waves. These are dangerous, fast and furious waves that break off nearby Pillar Point.

We watched in awe as fearless surfers paddled straight for unpredictable waters. I wondered how they could be so confident with these gigantic waves rising up behind them?

What a wonderful metaphor, I thought, for the way life comes at us so quickly. And how courageous it seems to get on a board and paddle out into the amazing blue ocean to find the perfect wave to ride. 

Despite my love for the ocean and whales, I have never surfed, though a part of me has always wanted to learn. I love thinking about how we exist as part of the ocean, how even when we get caught up in life’s waves, we are still held as part of something bigger. 

On the soul level, we search for the best possible experience. We know we can crash, but we still want to join the flow and ride the tide. 

It’s easy enough when it’s smooth sailing. But how do we surrender when life’s waters turn rough and threatening? When a giant wave comes and sweeps away everything we love? 

What does it mean to live life on life’s terms?

I struggled with this question when I learned that a beautiful woman I once knew lost her life last month in a shark attack. 

Kristine Allen and her husband were snorkeling in Maui when a tiger shark took her, leaving no trace of her except a rubber mask. 

Kristine was a life coach and I knew her from breathwork training. We shared a cetacean love. In a Facebook post, she wrote, “I have wanted to learn to surf for years. I am committed to creating a life I love in big and small ways.”

Her death was disturbing to me on many levels. How was it fair that this beautiful soul should be lost following her passion and doing what she loved? How could this be positive? I went into meditation and followed my breath, each inhale like a wave that brought me deeper.

Even in chaos, the breath allows me to ride the ups and downs of life. Sometimes breathwork is a beautiful, easy, graceful experience, and sometimes it’s painful. It gets stuck, or throws us off by what it brings up. 

Grief especially can feel like a tsunami. All we can do is ride it out, let it lift and carry us to a new place. 

Being present means to accept the gift of life, to live it as it is. How often do we allow ourselves to be in this space of presence? To follow our passion, not knowing where it will lead us? 

And how much is a moment of presence worth? What are we willing to sacrifice for it? Can we trust that all is well even when we don’t understand the outcome? 

The universe knows more than we do. For whatever reason, Kristine became one with the ocean. She lived fearlessly. In her final Facebook post, she offered these profound words:

“We loved our lesson and the joy of riding.”

Thank you, Kristine, for teaching me to live every moment to the fullest.

Lisa Peterson