I have a theory.
You are on a beach. It is a sandy beach, a large swathe of clear, sparking sand leads down to the rippling waves. You don't get to choose where you sit on this beach. Your parents sit you down telling you that this is your spot and teach you how to build a sandcastle. They tell you this sandcastle is who you are and you have to protect it no matter what.
There are people all around you also building their sandcastles. Sometimes you have people right next to you then in a blink they are further away from the waves, closer to the bush line. You do what you are told to do, you build a sandcastle. Taking inspiration from those closest to you, finding the towers and design that is most pleasing. You hear that there are other beaches with designs so unfamiliar they are nearly alien, castles that are built as communities, castles that are dictated by others, castles far beyond anything you can imagine. But you are sat here, on this particular beach, building this castle.
It's pretty peaceful, actually.
Then out of nowhere, a wave comes by and washes your sandcastle away.
You are forced to start over. Completely.
This time you try to build walls around your sandcastle to help dam off the waves and protect the inner castle that is you. You turn to others for help but they're too focused on themselves. You're alone. They tell you that it's your fault for being so close to the water line, you should be higher up the beach, but they won't move to make space. You're stuck. Alone, you rebuild your sandcastle.
Another wave. You desperately use your hands to try and push the water away. You reinforce your damn as the water collapses it. You're losing yourself. More and more sand from the surrounding area is used in the reinforcement, but the waves are a seemingly unending force.
This time only the smallest foundations of your castle remain.
There's a decision to be made. A choice to rebuild, to try again even when it seems hopeless. To not let the absence of you be the end of your development. You again start looking for inspiration from others. Sometimes there are people nearby; sometimes you see no one.
The waves are erratic. There's no telling when they'll come. No rhythm to help you prepare. You simply build. Your castles become more and more beautiful, more detailed, more reinforced. Your walls get thicker, moats with drains are placed. You make spiraling towers that others call impractical and criticise, but to you they are glorious. They are just right. You build yourself as a stunning creation with varying levels of practical defense and beauty. It could be small and tall, or stout and wide, regardless you know that this castle is the best you have ever built. You take all of your experience and pour it into yourself. Nothing has ever been more perfect.
Sometimes the waves are small.
They barely touch the edge of your walls, easily fended off with minimal repairs.
Other times your neighbours are the hardest bit. Some throw sand and stones, trying to break you down. Others try to force you to build their way, constantly criticising until you have to learn to drone out the incessant orchestra of their critiques. It's unclear their reasons. Sometimes it's a difference in castle preference, sometimes it's jealousy. In the end the reasons don't matter, you simply build your walls higher to compensate.
Sometimes the waves are huge.
They leave little to nothing behind. That's the hardest. Where do you find the energy to rebuild? The feeling of futility scratches at you. For some, it's a perfect opportunity. The castle didn't fit. So they scrap the original design all together and build something entirely new. For others, they attempt to rebuild what they had from memory. It's never just the way it was.
Sometimes you get lucky. In a blink of an eye can be someone sitting next to you. Sometimes they reach out, giving you tips of reinforcing your castle, or ask you to build together. Sometimes it's just a wall, sometimes it's the whole castle. It can make you stronger together. Sometimes it's worth collaborating and building something bigger, more intricate, a communal haven of personality and identity.
Sometimes you don't get lucky. Too many creative differences. Someone gets lost in the design. Becoming nothing but a foundation for the creative force that is the other. At those times you can wish for a wave. Take it all away and let you start new. Give you a reason to break away without having to tear it all down yourself. You feel trapped.
Sometimes there's no one there at all. This can be peaceful. This can be lonely.
The journey is never smooth. We are all sitting on a beach, building our sandcastles. We are all trying our best way to survive the waves and keep who we are. We are all striving to perfect a design that is open to interpretation. We are all works of art, in varying stages of construction and decay.
Your sandcastle is gorgeous.
It's fluid and unique and interesting.
Your sandcastle is worthwhile.
Your castle deserves to be admired, even if it's just by you.
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