There is this unquenchable thirst to be totally at one with the sublime, roaring power of the ocean. Not for everyone, perhaps.
I recall the nervous giggles that would bubble to the surface as a kid, you experience the rising energy within your tiny body. You'll know the one. You're drawn to the oceans strength but also so aware of its magnitude. This is a force to be reckoned with. Exalted.
My dad and mum used to take me to the ocean as a tiny kid, knees high as we ploughed through the waves when they battered the shoreline; diving beneath what felt like tidal waves, seeing the sky through the salty wall of seawater, our bodies churning within the belly of the sea. In that moment the hubris of mankind dissipates as we acquiesce to this energy.
To play in harmony with that power, to feel the pull and the volatility - experiencing the surging, billowing fervour and emotions of the ocean. Undulating.
We grow partial to it (especially in Australia), respect it as this pure, force of nature. Within its swelling body is so much energy, the dichotomy is, within the frenetic, bubbling, sea-foam breath of this entity is subtlety. As I lie on my back, face toward the sky, breath strong, my solar plexus drinks in the pure energy. In that moment, where the water rushes past my ears; hailing back to silence in the womb, I'm cradled and swaddled by the cool, blue healing liquid. I ask it to permeate my cells, my spirit. Flowing, qi moving.
When my eyes flutter closed, I can imagine the the phytoplankton, dancing across my body. I can picture the space I'm sharing with primal ocean beings, an honour to share and exist in harmony. I can see the history in the sand that withstands its own tumultuous existence, seeing and truly feeling our connection with this physical and spiritual being that is the ocean. I tap into that force, that surrender, the emotion, the purification, ebb and flow and I welcome the energy of the sea, to me.