You're a rock. You're on the seashore, and you've experienced countless waves; the initial impact of the crest when it breaks, the mass of water carrying the inevitable mass of debris rushing pass you, then the same mass of water retreating away from the seashore. Sometimes the weather is calm, and the waves are gentle. Sometimes the wind blows constant, and the waves are relentless. Sometimes the sea rages, the the waves crash against you with unfathomable power. Those days don't occur very often, and you somehow manage to hold on to your metaphorical grip on the sands. You are a sturdy boulder.
Yet, even after the storms, the waves keep coming. Minute after minute, hour after hour, day