Life has a way of throwing us into deep waters, doesn’t it? Sometimes, we’re cruising along, feeling on top of the world, and suddenly—crash! A wave of grief hits us, and we’re tumbling, disoriented, gasping for air. But what if I told you that the very ocean that knocks us down can also teach us how to stay afloat?\

I didn’t set out to become a philosopher of grief recovery when I dipped my toes in the Pacific. As a kid, my playground was the beach across from the motel my mom managed in Oceanside, California. While she worked, my siblings and I played in the ocean, becoming intimately familiar with its rhythms and moods. We even had our own “Flipper”—a friendly dolphin that often joined us as we played, showing off its wave-riding skills.

It was here that I first attempted to stand on a surfboard. Like any Southern Californian kid in the mid-1970s who was close to the beach, it felt like a rite of passage, but I was not destined to be a surf pro. In hindsight, those early attempts at surfing and my subsequent retreat to the easier version of body surfing taught me lessons that would apply far beyond the beach.

When faced with a wall of water, timing is everything. Start paddling too soon, and you’ll find yourself stranded in front of the wave, watching it pass you by. Too late, and you’re at the mercy of its full force, tumbling head over heels along the ocean floor. But get it just right, and you’re gliding smoothly between the break and the crest, as graceful as our dolphin friend.

Does this sound familiar? Grief has a similar anatomy. Sometimes, we try to outrun it, only to find ourselves exhausted and still facing the same overwhelming emotions. Other times, we’re caught off guard, and the full force of loss leaves us feeling battered and breathless.

So, can we apply surf skills to the choppy waters of grief? I think we can. Here are a few techniques to keep in mind:

First, read the water. Surfers learn to spot the right waves. Similarly, in grief, we can learn to recognize our emotional patterns. Are you prone to “wipeouts” on anniversaries or holidays? Knowing your triggers helps you prepare.

Next, paddle out. Sometimes, the hardest part is just getting in the water. With grief, this might mean acknowledging your feelings instead of avoiding them. Once again, that’s the “Perceive Reality” part of the PURPOSE framework. It’s scary but necessary for the ride.

Finding your balance is crucial. Being rigid on a surfboard leads to falls. In grief, flexibility is key. Some days, you might need to cry; others, you might find comfort in old memories. There’s no one “right” way to grieve, and reminding yourself to be flexible gives you the grace you need.

Once you’re on the wave, trust the process and ride it out. Grief, like waves, has a natural duration. It will eventually bring you back to shore, even if the ride feels endless in the moment. How long that takes is individual.

The fact is, wipeouts are going to happen. Even pro surfers fall. In grief, setbacks are normal. The key is getting back on the board. And let’s face it – sometimes life’s a beach, and you get sand in your shorts. It’s uncomfortable, it’s irritating, but it’s also a reminder that you’re out there, experiencing life in all its gritty reality.

Interestingly, psychologists have found parallels between the mindfulness required in surfing and healthy grieving. Both require presence in the moment and a willingness to experience discomfort without fighting it. This “acceptance” approach has been shown to lead to better emotional outcomes than avoidance strategies.

Moreover, just as regular surfing improves balance and core strength, navigating grief can build emotional resilience. Each wave you ride makes you better equipped for the next one.

I can’t count the number of times I ended up tumbling along the ocean floor as a kid, spitting out salt water and sand, breathless and scraped up. But here’s the thing: I always made it back to the beach. The waves always, eventually, brought me to the safety of solid ground.

Grief is similar. The waves may feel relentless with their constant pounding, but they do subside. And with each one you ride out, you’re building the skills to navigate whatever the emotional ocean throws your way next.

The next time you feel a wave of grief approaching, remember: you don’t have to be an expert surfer. You just need to be willing to get in the water, find your balance, and trust that, eventually, like our playful dolphin friend, you can learn to ride these waves with grace.

Life is an ocean with calm and storms. But with practice, patience, and a bit of surfing wisdom, we can learn to survive the waves of grief and ride them back to shore.