Stay with me because I’m going to get all metaphorical and useless but it’s one of those days, gloomy, cold, rainy and drab, with Coronavirus all around us and I’m like well, you know, time for a metaphor.
Here it is. You go to the beach and you dig a hole in the sand. And you go down and down and eventually you hit water, and there’s your water.
Okay, that’s it, that’s the metaphor. What, you want more? You want me to spell it out for you? Sure why not.
(Side note: I say “okay” a lot. I think that’s a form of self-comforting but it’s okay.)
I’ll spell it out. The water is what they tell you you need. The sand is what’s between you and the water. And the digging is what you have to do to get the water.
Get it? No? I’m an idiot? Really?
Let me try again. The water is wealth. The sand is The System. The digging is YOU. Oh snap, I left something out of this metaphor. There’s something you don’t know. You’re at the beach. And behind you, is a noise, a rumbling, a crashing. It’s something you can only keep away if you keep digging and keep getting your little bit of water. Just keep digging.
OK that’s it. That’s the end of the metaphor. A job well done.
Later.
What. You’re still here? Ah okay. Fine. Well let me just bring this puppy home because it’s almost time for me to go to the gym.
Behind you is the ocean. And the ocean is also made of water. And all you have to do to stop digging is get up, take off your blindfold, turn around and walk into the surf. Crouch down, cup your hands, and lift up that water. It’s yours for the taking, and there’s so, so much. There could be people lining the beach forever and still you would always get water in your hands.
You’ll get wet, of course. It may be uncomfortable. You may be far from the water. But if you do it right. You’ll never have to dig again. And you can have much, much more water than you ever would have by digging.
You can look up and down the beach and you’ll see large groups of people all digging, all giving up most of their water to another person who digs almost not at all. And none of them ever get to stand up and feel the surf over their feet or the wind in their hair.
Ask them why they don’t and they’ll say they can’t. They’ll say there’s no room. Or they’re happy with their puddle. They don’t see the water being taken from them because it’s not taken right out of their hands. But the digging makes far more than they earn themselves.
Ask them why they don’t and they’ll say they don’t know where the ocean is. They’ll call you crazy. They’ll say only a few people ever make it to the ocean.
But that’s the secret of the ocean – it’s us.
