I have waves pass over me all the time. Sometimes they are waves of exhaustion. Sometimes waves of shame. I've experienced wonderful waves of joy and plenty of waves of hunger. One summer, not too many years ago, I spent a week in southern California and tried my hand at surfing. I experienced plenty of literal waves washing over me, knocking me off my feet, spinning me in circles. Sometimes when the waves hit there's nothing to do but wait for them to pass, get your bearings again, and then keep moving on. Occasionally, though the waves are warm and comfortable and you want to wrap up in them and hold them close and never let them go.