The Tides of Life
a somewhat practical guide to embracing life’s ups and downs
Written in June 2022 (Version 1)
*Revised in June 2023
People say when you travel the world, you learn the most about where you’re from. At least, that’s what I was told. Perhaps it’s my overactive philosophizing brain, but I learned the most about life itself.
In April 2022, after finishing my fourth year of university, I took a trip across the Atlantic to backpack through Europe for a month. I was an inexperienced traveler, bristling with excitement to say sayonara to home, seek adventure, see the world.
I navigated the ancient streets of Rome, watched the sun melt into the streets at Michelangelo's Square in Florence, hiked the oceanside mountains in Cinque Terre, endured ostracism from not drinking beer in Prague, learned about bear moats in Český Krumlov, dodged collision with the swarms of cyclists in Salzburg, took postcard pictures in Hallstatt, and longingly looked at the architecture in Vienna.
Waiting for my flight home in the Vienna airport, I was journaling in my leatherbound notebook, reflecting on my travels. The trip turned out well, but it certainly wasn't smooth.
Some bad breaks morphed into memorable moments. In Rome, I got lost in the rain, in the dark, without an umbrella, an hour from my hostel. But I ended up stumbling into deserted ruins, gigantic fractured pillars bathed by warm spotlights, marble standing pale and proud against the dark stormy sky and felt a near-indescribable sense of ancient reverence.
Some moments of loneliness provided the kindling for connection. One early morning, boarding a bus from Salzburg to Hallstatt, sky a fuzzy blue, my heart dully aching for the familiarity of home, I asked a nearby traveler if I was waiting for the right bus. Just to speak to someone. Someone ended up being Richard. I spent the three-hour bus ride learning about his life in Singapore, service in the army, and dreams for the future.
Some stupid mistakes were just good life lessons. (Never trust a guy in a suit trying to sell you “special tickets” for the museum you’re in line for).
Suddenly, I had a realization: travel, like life, is cyclical. Some things go your way and some don’t. But in the end, everything tends to work out.
If I were to go back in time, catch Tommy just as he was bounding onto his first flight from Toronto to Rome, knowing both the joy and adversity ahead of him, I would say one thing: it’s all going to be okay.
inevitable ups and downs
I’ve come to believe that life is cyclical.
Sometimes it goes up, where everything feels easy and light. Sometimes it goes down, where everything feels hard and heavy. As spring leaps into summer and fades into autumn, life ebbs and flows. Ups and downs are inevitable. Like seasons, they’re part of the human experience.
This month I’ve been studying Tolkien, who was a master of myth and a student of old stories. Reading The Lord of the Rings, I realized the cyclical nature of life is woven into the Hero’s Journey. Frodo’s adventure is characterized by this recurring pattern of rise and fall, heaviness and lightness, tragedy and triumph. In dark moments, despite the despair, things always get better. In light moments, hopes rise high but then things take a turn for the worst.
As Tolkien seems to suggest, it’s all necessary for the hero’s becoming. The ups and the downs. Transformation cannot occur without both.
growing pains
The greatest illusion is that life should be perfect.
In the past, I’ve refused to accept life in its entirety. I’ve clung to the good and lost hope amidst the bad. But I’m learning struggle and setbacks are part of life, as much as ease and enjoyment.
I shouldn’t wish for life to always be easy. Hard times are good teachers. They’re tests to pass. Trials to overcome. Adversity provides the opportunity to strengthen and solidify my character. To act like the person I want to be, when it matters most. To prove myself.
As J.K. Rowling notes in her 2008 Harvard commencement speech:
The knowledge that you have emerged wiser and stronger from setbacks means that you are, ever after, secure in your ability to survive. You will never truly know yourself, or the strength of your relationships, until both have been tested by adversity.
Such knowledge is a true gift.
persisting through pain
At the onset of the pandemic, I started running. Although gyms have long reopened, I continue to run almost every day. This still surprises me. Most of my life I swore off running with more conviction than an atheist swears off church.
As I've fallen into the habit, running has become a reliable teacher. One of its deepest lessons: persist.
There are moments in every run where I feel light and breezy and I could run for miles. But, a few minutes later, my legs turn to lead, my lungs strain, and I'm ready to give up and burn my running shoes. But, if I can relax and push through that pain, that period of despair, it gets easier again. I begin to feel lighter. My spirits rise.
Life works the same way: If I can persist through the hard times I will make my way to the good times. Adversity is a test of endurance.
beauty amidst pain
I try to remember life is difficult and complicated and largely out of my control.
When I struggle, I find solace in the words of poets who remind me to embrace life’s cycles:
Debasish Mridha:
Life has its ups and downs.
When you are up, enjoy the scenery.
When you are down, touch the soul of your being and feel the beauty.
Fernando Pessoa:
If I could sink my teeth into the whole earth
And actually taste it,
I’d be happier for a moment…
But I don’t always want to be happy.
To be unhappy now and then
Is part of being natural.
Not all days are sunny,
And when rain is scarce, we pray for it.
And so I take unhappiness with happiness
Naturally, just as I don’t marvel
That there are mountains and plains
And that there are rocks and grass…
What matters is to be natural and calm
In happiness and in unhappiness
Kahlil Gibran:
And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy;
And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields.
And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.
They remind me there’s profound beauty in melancholy, unhappiness, even pain.
To miss out on sorrow would strip the human experience of its depth, reducing it to a hollow hedonism.
zooming out
I’m learning to label less. To let things play out. To see triumph and disaster for the imposters they truly are. To adopt the unruffled, water-off-my-back attitude ducks seem to have down.
Many setbacks that felt catastrophic at the time—job rejections, ended relationships, injuries—turned out to be blessings. If I got the first job I wanted, I’d be handcuffed to a Bloomberg terminal in some plush prison on Wall Street, distant from friends and family, consuming enough caffeine to get an entire Olympic track team disqualified. I needed life to save me from getting what I wanted.
Setbacks in the short-term are often saviours in the long-term. But zoomed in on day-to-day desires, I can’t see the bigger picture. I can’t see the blessings in disguise. I can’t see how every mistake and misfortune is somehow vital to my path. To becoming who I’m meant to be. I can’t appreciate how the disparate dots in my life will all somehow connect to form a rich, cohesive narrative. As Steve Jobs said: you can only connect the dots looking backwards.
So I’m trying to persist, be patient, zoom out. Trust life a little more. Trust that my successes and my failures will all lead to a path uniquely suited for me. Cultivate a conviction that I’m where I’m meant to be and a belief that I'll find my way to where I'm meant to go.
There’s a blessing from Rainer Maria Rilke I return to often: “Find in yourself enough patience to endure and enough simplicity to have faith... And as for the rest, let life happen to you. Believe me: life is in the right, always.”
Perhaps all we can do is breathe and beat on, holding onto a flickering faith that life is in the right. That we’ll get to where we need to be. That everything will be okay.
don't let the lows get too low
Growing up, I was a goalie in ice hockey. My Dad was my biggest fan, wisest mentor, and committed coach. After every game, I'd climb into the front seat beside him for the car ride home. He often told me, in both blowout losses when I'd have tear-stained cheeks and tournament victories when I’d be clutching my plastic trophy like a baby’s rattle: “Tommy, don’t let the highs get too high, or the lows get too low”.
My Dad was reminding me to stay grounded. To accept ups and downs as a natural part of playing the game. To appreciate the good times, knowing they will fade, and weather the bad times, remembering they’re for now rather than forever.
"This too shall pass"
It’s all inevitable. All essential. And it all will pass.
I’m trying to just roll with it and enjoy the journey. That seems like a pretty good antidote to me.
And, a helpful reminder as I closed my notebook, packed my bag, and boarded my long flight home from Vienna.
Thank you for reading my writing. I hope this piece made your day a little more beautiful.
If you enjoyed this, you might like my related piece on resting like a roman.
PS—If you want to support my work, the best way to do so is by sharing it with others who would benefit from reading it. Beyond that, click the ❤️ button on this post so more people can discover it.
Wow, so beautifully written. My favorite quote:
“To miss out on sorrow would strip the human experience of its depth, reducing it to a hollow hedonism.”
I think about the nature of pain often. Particularly because it’s necessary for human experience, and partly due to wanting to understand the problem of pain in regards to Christianity.
As C.S Lewis writes, “pain would be no problem unless, side by side with our daily experiences of this painful world, we had received what we think a good assurance that ultimate reality is righteous and loving.”
While not entirely related to your essay, I think it’s something worth thinking about. Pain is something people try to escape. But if you desire to do or be anything great, adversity and setbacks are unavoidable.
A lot resonates here. My dad also talks about the highs and lows in life and compares it to the stock market. Also this one “don’t let the highs get too high, or the lows get too low”. Thank you.