The only way to escape the heat is to jump in. The cold shocks at first, especially in contrast to the sun that blares down over the sand and water. Wading out further, my body slowly grows numb until it's completely accustomed to the temperature and I feel like I was born to be there floating around. Kicking my legs, I get past the whitewash and crashing waves that pummel me under and swim farther and farther until reach the point that is completely calm. The only motion out there is the start of swells that gently lift me up and drop me back down, causing butterflies in my stomach as I am softly moved by the sea. As the swells move closer to shore, they grow in strength and violence, but where I am it’s simple, gentle movement. There is nothing but the splash of the water moving against my hands keeping me afloat and the engulfing feeling of serenity. 
The sun suddenly no longer sits directly above me. Seemingly in minutes it had dipped down to the western horizon, casting the sky into hues of orange, pink, and purple, and sending shivers across my arms as the breeze above the surface grows chilly. My hands are pruney and my legs are tired from moving in circles, but my heart is full. My smile is huge and my eyes are closed and I move to lay on my back on top of the water, letting the current take me. There is no noise. I do not see. I do not think. I do not feel. I just exist. Giving into the slow waves around me, I am calm and full of joy. Without resistance, I am beautiful. 
“Sarah! Time to come in, let’s go!” 
My arm rises out of the water and forms a thumbs up so my mom knows I heard her, and reluctantly I swim back to shore where the craziness of the real world waits with open arms. On my hands and knees, I crawl to reach the sand to try to stay submerged as long as possible, and as I’m along the shore, I notice all the small pebbles littering the waterline. I grab one as I stand up to return to where my family sits waiting for my return. 
I show my mom the rock because it’s amazingly completely smooth, and she smiles and tells me that’s what the ocean does. It takes rough things and rounds them into perfect versions of themselves over time. I feel the same effects of the ocean on me. A rock, I sit in the water, letting the waves wash over me and smooth away my rough feelings until only the polished version remains. Without resisting the force of the water, I let the change happen and grow into a version of me that feels incredible. 
If you let the world come to you, you acknowledge that change is inevitable and not an evil force, and you allow yourself the opportunity to uncover new discoveries about yourself. Some might feel the need to resist the tide and make the world their own controlled experience. But all that leaves you with is kicking and fighting and exhaustion from resisting a force that isn’t meant to be pushed against. Those who fight are left rough and scarred. Being washed away by the waves is an experience of freedom on its own, but more importantly, is a necessary process to grow refined and honed in on the untapped beauty lying within you. 
When I was around 7 years old, my family drove 40 minutes to the beach to spend the day relaxing and playing there. My sister and I ran across the sand, our feet burning, and once my parents set our camp up and we applied sunscreen, we sprinted together into the waves. Crashing onto our stomachs, diving under and jumping over the waves, we stood firm against the power of the mighty ocean. After a couple minutes I ran back up to our camp, then, boogie board in hand, I crashed back into the water. I was a pretty small girl, and I caught one wave that was strong and huge and trying its best to push me under. I resisted and fought it and ended up flipping headfirst underwater spinning with the wave, my lungs burning and my eyes stinging in the salt water, open to find which way was up, spinning over and over and over again. I did eventually make it back to the surface and inhaled a huge breath of air, don’t worry. But the point is that I might not have. Swimming against the tide doesn't prove you to be cool or unique or possessing some great strength because you’re inevitably going to fail. Resistance leads to pain, every time. 
For this reason, I choose to be the rock. I let life come to me in waves, some crashing, some soft. Amidst the ebbing and flowing, the coming and going, the strong and the gentle, I choose serenity. I know that whatever hits me is there to help me. The discomfort is temporary and is the only way I can change for the better. My rough edges and deep wounds can only be smoothed by sinking down and letting the world shape me and polish me. 
Our obstacles are not a challenge to run from, they’re there for a reason. They exist to push us and wash over us and chip away at us to get to the core of who we are. Our pure center can’t be found any other way. I choose calm, I choose acceptance, I choose stillness. In that, I find happiness.