The waves. They are back. Not that they were ever really gone. I heard them this morning while standing on the porch waiting for the dogs to stretch, tinkle, and dump. It was a pleasant surprise. So simple. Big water against the shoreline blocks away. The waves took me out of my head—a dangerous and vulnerable place early in the morning—and got me pointed in the right direction.

There is only so much I can do. Is that the truth? Or is that what we tell ourselves to keep comfortable? Seems like it would be easy now to settle into the big fade. Ride out whatever comes my way. Make sure family is happy. Yearn for warmer days. Consider the slower pace that can come with an empty nest. Work away time as clock hands keep turning. Saving for rainy days, or snowy days, or sun.

But the kids are not grown enough to try this world on their own. I’m glad for that. I’d like them here for as long as they’ll have us. And even though my wife and I have plans—travel, hike, read, paint, and write—we know that plans are just words unless they’re put into action. It’s fun to make them, exciting to see them come to fruition, and there is great satisfaction in seeing them through. But is there anything better than having plans? Ideas and hopes. Dreams. A little something to talk about on our walks, at dinner, just before we set ourselves off to sleep.

I’m listening to the sound of waves now. Not the mighty Lake Huron, but ocean waves rushing onto a sandy beach. I do this sometimes because it’s soothing. I bring up YouTube, put on headphones, and let my spirit vacation while the body and brain work. Doing what needs to be done to continue this coming and going, earning and consuming. Waking earlier and earlier each day, eager to get started because I believe that more opportunities are revealed the longer I keep at it. Some mornings start slower than others. I get sidetracked with water, thoughts like waves, but that’s okay.

Here’s to another day of heading in the right direction.

~ KJ