Are You a Wave Watcher or a Wave Rider?

By Lisa King, LPC

There is a distinct geography to how we live our lives. There is the Shore, and there is the Water.

Most of us oscillate between the two, but we usually have a "home base"—a default setting for how we engage with the world, our relationships, and even our own emotions.

The question is: Are you watching the waves, or are you riding them?

The View from the Shore (The Wave Watcher)

The shore is seductive because it promises one thing above all else: Safety.

When you are a Wave Watcher, you are dry. You are stable. You have a clear, panoramic view of everything happening in front of you. You can analyze the tides, critique the form of the surfers, and predict when the storm is rolling in—all without a drop of salt water touching your face.

The shore is the place of control. It is where perfectionism thrives. If you stay on the sand, you never have to worry about losing your footing. You never have to worry about the undertow.

But the cost of the shore is distance. You can see life happening, but you aren’t actually in it. You are observing connection rather than experiencing it. You remain untouched, but you also remain unchanged.

The Reality of the Water (The Wave Rider)

The water is different. The water is untamable.

To be a Wave Rider is to accept that you are going to get wet. It means accepting that you will not always have solid ground beneath your feet.

The water is the place of mess. It is where the sand gets in your suit, where the salt stings your eyes, and where the temperature can shock your system.

But the water is also where buoyancy happens. It is where you feel weightless. It is where you learn to move with the energy of life rather than bracing against it.

Why We Avoid the Water

For many of us—especially those who have experienced deep hurt or trauma—the shore feels like the only reasonable option. When you’ve been pulled under before, the idea of wading back in feels reckless. We convince ourselves that if we just stay on the dry land, analyze enough, and prepare enough, we can keep ourselves safe.

But we can’t selectively numb our experience. When we refuse to step into the messy waters of vulnerability, we also miss out on the rush of joy, the feeling of connection, and the flow of being truly known.

Stepping In

Getting in the water doesn't mean you have to charge into a hurricane. It might just mean dipping your toes in.

• It means having the hard conversation instead of avoiding it.

• It means sitting with a painful emotion instead of distracting yourself.

• It means allowing yourself to be seen, imperfections and all.

To stay on the shore is to judge the ocean. To get in the water is to respect it.

You can spend your whole life studying the waves, keeping your clothes dry and your hair perfect. Or you can wade in, feel the pull of the tide, and trust that even if a wave knocks you down, you know how to find the surface again.