In a time where we see beings as resources, sources of profit, the ocean in her ubiquity becomes a backdrop, a location, a container from which we extract things. Yet who stands on the shore and is not at some point, at least for a moment, engulfed by a wash of overwhelm at the magnitude she presents? We know, even if we can’t say why, that there is more to her than a vacation.
We hear the call of the ocean from far inland and come, in pilgrimage, to stand on the beach and watch the sun rise or set over the water. Is this pull anything like what the ocean feels from the moon as she beckons the tides? In and out, in and out, rolling over endlessly, one wave after another after another after another, stretching up high over the beach, then retreating, and repeating. Repeating so many times for so long even the trees that live for a thousand years feel it as forever. She is relentless to the point that we do not question her. There is a feeling that if the waves ever stopped, so would time.
Some hear the siren call louder than others. It’s not some finned or feathered creature, it’s the ocean herself, tempting you barefoot into the water. She is a trickster. She will catch you the moment your back is turned. She will lull you into a pattern of waves and then one comes that is twice as strong, twice as deep. It’s up to you to keep your wits and not stray too deep where the rip tide will take you as tribute. Her lessons are harsh. You will always come away wet from the sea.
Despite this frothing roar of waves, our inner self is not similarly churned. In her presence we are calmed, soothed. The steady thrum of distant waves is perhaps not unlike the sound of life from within the womb. Our coils of DNA hold ancient code that remember being born in this watery expanse. Even as she sooths us, she is not exempt from the rages of motherhood. Her tempestuousness is unparalleled, and woe be those who cannot ride out the storm. The ocean is the fiercest and most unforgiving of all the mothers on the planet, and yet also the most nurturing.
We think of the ocean as a place to visit, but the ocean is present all around us, within us. There is almost no where on earth she doesn’t visit as snow or rain, traveling back to the sea as river, stream, and creek both over and underground. She is held in the cells of every living creature. If anyone rules this planet, it is her. Our wellbeing depends upon her temperament, her temperature. She sculpted life on this planet—whether you believe it was her doing, or that she was in service to a god, doesn’t really matter. The point is there is a higher power than you, at work every day on this planet, sustaining us and all other life. And she’s with you, within you, always.