Why Waves & Harbors?

I discovered that grief doesn't arrive all at once. it comes in waves. With heartbreak, it feels like the ocean can swallow you whole. Over time, it starts to feel more like waves. They rise, they crash, they knock you down — and then they break and fall away. More waves will come, some small, some violent, some meant to test you. You can face each wave and refuse to let it take you under permanently. I slowly learned to breathe through the storm instead of bowing to it.

Find your footing, spit out the water, and brace for the next one. Waves are still out in the ocean, but for a little while, your heart finds a harbor — a place where it doesn't have to fight so hard. One day the waves will get a little smaller and the harbors will get a little longer. This is the journey of Waves & Harbors. Eventually, the ocean itself changes.

I didn't set out to write about heartbreak. I set out to survive it. During one particular day, I realized my grief wasn't constant. It arrived in waves. Some knocked me to my knees. Others past almost unnoticed. Between those waves, there were tiny moments where I could breath again.

A cup of coffee

A yoga class

A walk with my dog

A kind conversation

I started calling those moments harbors. This blog was born because I needed somewhere to record both. I created it because I couldn't find the shore. Somewhere between heartbreak and healing, I realized grief comes in waves, then healing doesn't happen all at once either.

Sometimes healing is nothing more than finding a harbor before the next wave arrives.