Week 36: Riding the Waves
Some of what I’ll share today has come up in previous posts—because these reminders matter. Reflection is a powerful tool, and certain lessons deserve revisiting.
“I’m just riding the waves,” a client said to me recently. It wasn’t said with triumph or optimism, but with honesty—because sometimes, that’s all we can do. Life doesn’t pause to ask if we’re ready, rested, or in control. It just keeps life-ing.
Plans unravel. To-do lists multiply. Work deadlines loom. Promotions pass you by. Bonuses disappoint. Family dynamics grow tense. The small stuff suddenly feels monumental. And then there are the waves we rarely talk about: grief, loss, or moments that remind us of what’s gone. Some waves hit harder than others, and no amount of preparation makes them easier to withstand.
But here’s the thing: You don’t have to master the ocean to make it through. You just have to ride the waves. And if I’m being real—this post feels as much for me as it is for you. Yes, I’m a Psychologist. The one with the tools, the insights, and the steady calm people look for. But I’m also human. I ride the waves too—sometimes paddling hard, sometimes floating aimlessly, sometimes laughing at how absurd it all feels. And that’s okay.
This isn’t about pretending to be okay. It’s about finding ways to keep yourself steady when everything feels unsteady—when it feels like the ocean is too much.
5 Ways to Ride the Waves
Stop Fighting What You Can’t Control
When chaos hits, the instinct is to resist, fix, or force it to change. But the harder you fight the water, the more it pulls you under. Instead, pause. Breathe. Name what’s happening—even if it’s unfair, painful, or exhausting. You don’t have to like the wave you’re in, but you don’t need to drown yourself fighting it either.Focus on the Smallest Step Forward
The whole ocean can feel impossible to face. Instead, focus on what’s manageable right now: answering one email, drinking water, stepping outside, or resting for five minutes. The small steps won’t solve everything, but they’ll keep you from sinking further.Notice the Small Wins—Even If They Feel Tiny
This is a reminder I’ll never tire of sharing: Small wins are everything. Small wins don’t always feel like victories, but they count. Did you get through a hard meeting? Take care of yourself even when you didn’t feel like it? Let yourself cry or lean on someone you trust? These moments matter, especially when bigger things feel out of reach.Float When You Have Nothing Left
Not every wave requires action. Sometimes floating—doing less, stepping back, or allowing yourself to grieve—is all you can do. And that’s enough. Floating isn’t giving up; it’s what lets you stay above water when you’re too tired to paddle.Acknowledge the Absurdity
Life has a way of piling on at the worst moments: spilled coffee, missed calls, shoes that don’t match. It’s not always funny, but sometimes noticing how absurd it all is can lighten the weight, even briefly. When you can’t change the chaos, simply noticing that you’re still here—amid all of it—matters.
A Grounded Reminder for the Year Ahead
As we step into 2025, let go of the pressure to have it all together. Some days you’ll move forward with energy. Other days, you’ll simply hold on. Both are worth something.
If you look back and see moments where the waves overwhelmed you, that’s okay. We all have those. Grief, disappointment, and setbacks can hit harder than we expect. But being here now—reading this, taking a moment, or simply trying to stay afloat—is evidence of one truth: You’re still showing up. And that’s enough.
Finally…
Here’s what I want to leave you with: Riding the waves isn’t about endless strength or optimism. It’s about giving yourself permission to float when you’re tired, to move slowly when you can, and to acknowledge that some waves are heavier than others.
If you’re feeling unsteady right now, you’re not alone. Share what keeps you afloat if it feels right—someone else might need the reminder that they’re not the only one navigating rough water.
Here’s to showing up for ourselves, wave by wave, however imperfectly.