Hi friends,
A parable starts like this:
Imagine two waves, a smaller one and a larger one, traveling across the ocean. Suddenly, the larger one sees land approaching, and gets upset. He cries to the smaller wave, “Oh, no! Up ahead, waves are crashing and disappearing! We’re going to die!” The smaller wave, somehow, is unperturbed. So, the larger wave tries to convince her, to no avail….
The larger wave’s panic feels familiar. We’ve all been there, watching something we love move toward an ending we can’t control.
When fear of change hits, it can feel like the end of us. The spiritual leader Ram Dass once told this story that captures why that fear is mostly an illusion. Every so often, a metaphor like this arrives that explains everything: ego, loss, love, impermanence. Dass found it in the ocean with a two-wave metaphor.
We spend a lot of our lives identifying with our “wave,” be it our roles, titles, emotions, and/or the rise and fall of moments. But beneath it all, we’re something deeper and shared.
I came across the full story in Melinda French Gates’ memoir, where she mentions a favorite parable from Dass. It stopped me. Two waves, one afraid of crashing, one at peace. Sometimes, wisdom hides in the simplest metaphors.
Here’s the full parable from Dass:
Imagine two waves, a smaller one and a larger one, traveling across the ocean. Suddenly, the larger one sees land approaching, and gets upset. He cries to the smaller wave, “Oh, no! Up ahead, waves are crashing and disappearing! We’re going to die!” The smaller wave, somehow, is unperturbed. So, the larger wave tries to convince her, to no avail.
Finally, the smaller wave says, “What would you say if I told you that there are six words, that if you really understood and believed them, you would see that there’s no reason to fear?” The bigger wave protests, but as the land approaches, he becomes desperate. He’ll try anything. “Fine, fine, tell me the six words.”
“Okay,” the smaller wave says, “You’re not a wave, you’re water.”
That’s got to be part of the whole journey, right? Remembering what we already are.
The parable begs the questions: Where in your life have you mistaken the wave for the water? What parts of your life feel like they’re ending, and what if they’re simply changing form?
We spend so much energy trying to hold our shape, yet peace often comes from remembering the source. What would it look like this week to live — to flow with life — more like the water?
Celebrate your gifts,
Matthew
