I spent the first six months of quarantine agitated and anxious. My meltdowns would come like a storm – quick and destructive, only leaving fear in a rain shower of tears. I've always wanted to control my surroundings, and when I couldn't, the panic set in leaving me scared and confused.

I think we always innately desire to control our environment as humans – to feel safe and grounded. The truth is, living is less like feet planted on the earth. It isn't stabilized by gravity and rigid layers. Rather, living is the deepest ocean, which washes up sands and salts and starfish.

For too long, I've been chopping up the waters with my flailing while trying not to drown. For all my life, I've been gasping for air and spitting up saltwater, without knowing that all this time I could have just let the waves take me wherever they go. Maybe their travels go to an unknown destination, but at least I'd be staying afloat.

I was doing dishes on a Monday. Like every time, water from the flowing tap swept up from my white clay plates and onto my shirt. The water chilled on my stomach and wrinkled my shirt. That day, apart from every other dish day, I exhaled and laughed in my wet clothes. I laughed because I had a choice: to let it ruin my morning or to stay afloat.

I laughed because I was grateful. Not everyone can say they have running water or dishes to clean. How lucky am I? That I can feel the hot water cool on my t-shirt. That the splash sent soapy suds, smelling of pomegranate into the air.

In the book of Luke, Jesus told us that we must take the Kingdom of Heaven as a child would. For now on, that is how I strive to live. I want to lie on my back in the rising and receding waves. Cry when things get hard, but cherish the little joys in life.

I tell you this: take every opportunity to find the good in the little things of life. This is where all happiness hides– not in wealth or fame or sex. Happiness is a mindset, so live in the little things, and let these waves take you wherever they go.