Building sandcastles was something many of us loving doing; painstakingly filling the small plastic bucket with wet sand and then overturning it, hoping that the castle would stand. Then came adding new towers and floors. Also, who can forget the moat of crocodiles? We would make sure nothing crumbled down by adding sand, adding water. But then the waves would come. And all that work would come to naught because after all, what is sand when compared to the sea?
As children though, we wouldn't give up, believing that we could defeat the waves. And we'd move a little further back and start anew.
Life feels a lot like this. The careful filling up of the bucket and then overturning it with fingers crossed, hoping the castle will stand and the risk pays off. That jubilant feeling when it does. And then the reinforcements to make stronger. Building it little by little. Only to have it all washed away in the blink of an eye by the relentless waves.
The difference now is that it gets more difficult to begin again each time the castle is destroyed. Lessons are learnt the hard way. Experiences are remembered and the hope dims. That childish faith in starting anew and believing that the castle will stand this time around is gone.
Because how many times will you keep trying and how many times can you just believe?
Life after all, is as relentless and tireless as the waves. And we aren't children any more.