The Raging Sea


On the morning of the first, we can hear the waves crashing upon our shore, relentlessly taunting our first approach to the new year.  The wooden coin that represents last winter’s hopes and dreams is heard bobbing aimlessly in the whitewater and cobblestones of the day.  “Come, come and see what has become of my travels”, is heard as through a sea shell in your head.


Like the hallow echo of driftwood trapped in the harbor, there is no escaping last years call. We will crawl through the sand just as last year, in order to see what has become of our misguided intentions.  Will we log the results of our charted endeavors correctly or will we blindly throw our new set of ill planned goals back into the awaiting storm?


Take time to properly sand and finish this years wooden coin.  Draw away from the tempting shore in order to ensure yourself of a successful voyage. Chart this years hopes and dreams as if your life depended on it; as if you would never see land or your family again.  When next year finds you on the shores of reflection, let it be a moment of celebration and victory.