We are not the sand. We are not the salt. We aren’t the combination of elements. There’s no stasis to this. Each time the water touches the land and moves away, it changes. always moving but never once the same composition.

We are the wave form. We are moving through and over this.

Clinging to a love, avoiding that which we fear, denying commonality or calling up differences ignores our true substance. You are never what you have been, so much as what you will be. 

People often ask me for favorites, for points of constancy over time, and I find it very difficult to explain that those cannot exist. You cannot ever stand still. The longer you live, the more you’ll see the truth of this. We launch ourselves forward, always. We throw ourselves into the next experience, the next food, the next sound, the next idea, the next way of being. If we don’t, we sink. When someone asks you who you are, you cannot describe what you like, what you’ve done. Those things are meaningless. Describe where you’re going. Describe those things that propel you to it.

You are what moves you and where you will go. Inner calm, longevity, the joy of accomplishment all depend on this. You are the thing still forming, the being who is living. You are moving. You are a wave form, not the sea, not the sand, not the salt. 

Don’t ask me about the shores I’ve been to. Don’t ask me about the ships I’ve carried. Don’t wonder what mysteries I’ve entertained.

Ask me about the tide.