Riding the Wave

Over the last several months, I have had quite a few things suddenly shift and change. Some changes have been easier to move through than others, but they have reminded me that no matter how much we plan or think we know where we're going, life can suddenly send us in a different direction.

Recently, that happened with a trip I had been planning for months.

I was supposed to travel in November. I had spent months making plans and putting everything together, and then suddenly things started taking a detour. I was disappointed and frustrated. I had invested time, energy, and money into something I wanted to do, and I wasn't suddenly happy that it wasn't happening simply because circumstances had changed.

But while I was speaking with someone about the problems that were coming up, I heard my guides very clearly.

I wasn't supposed to go on this trip.

I wasn't completely confident about how everything was going to work out, but I was confident about that. Instead of continuing to fight to make the original plan happen, I decided to cancel and see what I could recover, move, or reorganize.

That experience got me thinking about what it really means to ride the wave.

You Can Be Disappointed and Still Trust

I don't believe trusting a change means we have to like it.

I'm still disappointed that I'm not taking the trip I had planned for November. There is still some frustration there. Those feelings didn't disappear because I decided to trust what I was receiving.

What changed was how I responded.

I could acknowledge the disappointment while also recognizing that I didn't have to fight to preserve a plan that no longer felt right.

I don’t like that this changed, but I am willing to see where the change takes me.

For me, that's an important part of riding the wave. Trust and disappointment can exist at the same time. We don't have to judge what we're feeling or force ourselves to find something good about a change before we're ready. Sometimes we simply recognize that the direction has changed and decide what we need to do next.

Riding the Wave Doesn't Mean Giving Up

When I think about riding the wave, I picture the difference between being in the water fighting against the river and being supported on top of the water, moving with it.

When you're fighting against the water, so much of your energy can become focused on the struggle itself. You're trying to resist where the water is moving, trying to hold onto where you thought you were supposed to be going, or trying to force your way back toward the direction you originally planned.

Now imagine being supported on a raft.

The river is still moving. The current can change. Something unexpected can happen. You don't necessarily know where the water is going to take you.

But you aren't using all of your energy fighting against it.

Being supported on top of the water can give you space to breathe, notice what's happening around you, receive guidance, and respond to what is actually happening rather than constantly struggling against the fact that something has changed.

That's what releasing control means to me. It doesn't mean giving up, avoiding action, or expecting someone else to take care of everything. It means releasing the need to force circumstances back into the exact plan I originally created.

When I decided not to take the November trip, I still had things to handle. I had to cancel reservations, look into refunds, find out what could be moved, and figure out how to reorganize what I already had. I think of that as cleaning up from the situation and moving forward.

Because I travel frequently, I've also learned to prepare for change. I buy insurance and pay attention to refund policies. That preparation gave me options when this trip changed.

Trust and preparation aren't opposites. I can release control over the outcome while still taking practical responsibility for what needs to happen as I move through the change.

When Fear Tries to Solve a Problem That Doesn't Exist Yet

There was one part of this experience where I didn't follow what I was feeling.

I had a connecting flight, and I became worried that I might not have enough time to make the connection. I started feeling nervous and anxious about something that hadn't actually happened.

I decided I should upgrade my seat so I could sit closer to the front of the plane. At the same time, I felt that I should wait. I almost upgraded all four seats involved, but at the last minute I decided to purchase only one upgrade and figure out the rest later.

That decision became the one expense I couldn't recover.

The amount of money isn't important. What mattered was recognizing why I had spent it.

I was trying to solve a problem before there was actually a problem.

My intuitive feeling was telling me to wait. Fear was telling me I needed to do something immediately, and I acted from that fear.

That became one of the gold nuggets in this experience. For me, fear shows up as nervousness or anxiety that creates an urgency to act. When I react to that urgency too quickly, I can end up creating a problem while trying to prevent one that hasn't happened.

Learning How I Receive Guidance

For me, intuition and fear feel different.

I receive intuitive guidance, including through my spiritual team—my spirit guides, guardian angels, and the spirits around me. Sometimes that guidance comes through very clearly as a yes or a no.

That is part of my spiritual experience. Someone else's experience may look completely different. They may understand intuition through their own spiritual beliefs, an inner knowing, a feeling, or something else entirely.

In this situation, I wasn't totally confident about how all of the details would work out. I knew I didn't want to lose the money I had already put into the trip, and I started looking at ways to reorganize things so I wouldn't.

What I did trust was the guidance that I wasn't supposed to go.

It didn't take long to be shown from my spirit team what was to be scheduled next. It is another trip, one I am counting down the days for.

I was able to redirect or recover most of what I had already paid so it could be used differently. The one expense I couldn't recover was the seat upgrade—the purchase I had made even though I had felt that I should wait.

The replacement trip is still being planned, so I don't know the outcome of that experience yet. What I can see now is that changing direction didn't mean everything I had already put into the original plan was lost.

Sometimes the Why Comes Later

Another piece of the experience began making sense after I had already decided not to go.

There are transitions happening within my family. I had adjusted my travel plans around one of them, but I hadn't verified the dates connected to another.

Later, I realized those dates would likely fall around the time I would have been returning from my trip, and I needed to be here to help.

I didn't have that information when I first received the guidance that I wasn't supposed to go. It came afterward.

For me, that became another piece of the puzzle.

I think we often want to understand immediately why something changed. We want to know why something didn't work, why a plan fell apart, or why we're being pulled in a different direction.

But the gold nugget isn't always visible when the change happens.

Sometimes we recognize it within hours or days. Sometimes it takes months or years. And there may be experiences where we never receive the clear explanation we were looking for.

We don't have to manufacture one.

Sometimes all we can do is continue moving through the experience and remain open to what we may recognize later.

Creating Space to Process What Happened

Some changes are much more painful and difficult than a canceled trip. Loss, trauma, relationships ending, grief, and major life changes can leave us deeply connected to what happened.

In my spiritual and healing practice, I believe energetic connections can sometimes affect how we process those experiences. One practice I use and may recommend is an energy cut, which I view as a way of creating some energetic separation from a person or situation so there may be more space to process what happened.

That doesn't mean grief, disappointment, anger, or other emotions suddenly disappear. It doesn't guarantee that someone will discover a reason for what happened. For me, it is simply one way of creating space that may make processing the experience easier.

Sometimes the only thing we can recognize right now is:

I don't understand this yet.

And we don't have to force an answer before we're ready.

How Are You Responding to Change?

When something changes unexpectedly, it can be useful to notice what happens next.

• Are you trying to force everything back into the original plan because you're afraid of what happens if you don't?

• Are you responding to something that is actually happening, or something you're afraid might happen?

• What are you receiving from your intuition, your spiritual beliefs, your experience, or whatever you trust to help guide you?

• And what practical action actually needs to be taken right now?

Maybe you need to make a phone call. Cancel something. Ask a question. Review a policy. Change a plan. Wait before spending money. Or maybe you simply need time to process what has happened before deciding anything at all.

Riding the wave doesn't mean there is only one right response, and struggling with a change doesn't mean you're doing something wrong. Some experiences are difficult, and sometimes it takes time before we can stop fighting against what has happened.

For me, riding the wave is about becoming aware of how I'm responding and recognizing when I can release some of the struggle. That can give me enough space to breathe, notice what is happening, receive guidance, and decide what practical action needs my attention.

Keep Riding

Change happens.

Sometimes we can see immediately where it is taking us, and sometimes we can't. We may be disappointed, frustrated, relieved, confused—or several of those things at once.

For me, learning to ride the wave has meant learning to trust: my intuition, my guides, my spiritual beliefs, myself, the process, and the experience, depending on what I'm facing.

That trust doesn't remove every difficulty. It doesn't mean I won't struggle with a change or wish that something had happened differently. And it doesn't mean I stop taking responsibility for the things that still need my attention.

What it can do is help me recognize when I'm spending all of my energy fighting against the fact that the river has changed.

I don't have to know where the entire river leads before I allow myself to move with the water. I can take care of what needs my attention, listen to the guidance I'm receiving, allow myself to feel disappointed about what changed, and release some of the need to fight every part of the journey.

Maybe the gold nugget will surface quickly. Maybe I'll recognize it much later. Maybe the experience will give me information, clarity, or a different direction without ever giving me the complete explanation I wanted.

For me, riding the wave is trusting enough to move with the experience rather than constantly fighting against it.

The river may not be taking me where I originally planned to go.

I can still allow the water to support me as I find out where it is taking me.