Floating in the Waves: A Lesson in Releasing Control

There’s a cove in Costa Rica where the ocean cradles you like an old friend, its waves gently lifting and releasing you in a rhythmic dance. It was here, during the LoveHer Retreat, that I learned an invaluable lesson: the power of releasing control.

Initially, I fought to stand tall against the waves, bracing myself as if the ocean were something to conquer. But the more I resisted, the more I felt off-balance, as if the Earth herself was reminding me that control was an illusion. So, I let go. I allowed the waves to carry me, to guide me, and in that moment, I felt a peace I hadn’t realized I was missing. Floating on the water, I released my hypervigilance and surrendered to something greater than myself.

The more I resisted, the more I felt off-balance, as if the Earth herself was reminding me that control was an illusion.

This profound moment of surrender took place on the day we explored our relationship to water. When asked about my thoughts on water, my feelings were complex. It’s true—I feel most connected to water, but I am also reminded of the grief and violence that comes with it. Lucille Clifton’s poem, Atlantic is a Sea of Bones, echoed in my mind, a haunting reminder of the lives lost to the ocean during the transatlantic slave trade. I also reflected on my visit to Drexciya as depicted by Ayana V. Jackson in her exhibit From the Deep, where the mythology of an underwater world of resilience and resistance offered a powerful yet painful lens on the intersections of water, memory, and identity.

This exploration of water deepened my understanding of what it means to both love and grieve something so elemental. The ocean is a source of life and connection, yet it holds the weight of history and loss. Sitting with these truths, I found myself embracing the duality of water—its ability to both nurture and remind us of wounds that have yet to fully heal.

Unplugging from technology while in Costa Rica added to this depth of reflection. I turned off notifications, ignored emails, and set aside the constant barrage of social issues, politics, and the endless pressure to stay informed. For the first time in what felt like forever, I read a novel—a work of fiction that transported me to another world and reminded me of the beauty of stillness and imagination. Disconnecting from the external noise allowed me to reconnect with myself.