Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • My younger cousins ran from our uncle down the pebble beach and a part of me wanted to run with them as me and my older cousins had done in our childhood. Propriety, as we'd come from a funeral, and another cousin waiting for me to get into the car to take me home, held me back and I just stood apart, observing.

    There was my cousin Benjamin hurling stones at the ocean. It seemed a futile gesture but he was so enthusiastic about it and it suddenly struck me that is what we are like when we are young, throwing our energy at an ocean of life that seems so much stronger than us, as indeed the energy itself is stronger than us so we need to express it, get it outside of ourselves and I understood that his hurling of stones was just an expression of his own powerlessness.

    And suddenly I pitied my young companions because, with maturity, I have learned not to throw stones into the ocean of life for them to be swallowed whole. I can live with my energy inside of me and control it, give it direction and purpose. It's okay with me that I am now an older generation among our cousins.

    The kids were having fun, making memories that would one day teach them the same lesson I had just realised, but I thought I'd rather stand upon the shore and absorb the elements, than to throw stones into winter waves feistier than myself. Filled with sea air and ocean strength I turned to the cousin of my own generation and let him walk me back to the warmth of the car and take me home to put my energy into more productive things.
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.