The ocean is my source of sacred calm, of inner expansiveness, of being able to…breathe. I grew up on the west coast of Canada, and the water has always been a visual part of my life. When I lived there, I saw it almost everyday…so much so that I didn’t even notice how integral a presence it was, until I was contemplating a move elsewhere in the country; upon visiting that landlocked city, I felt energetically choked, as though something crucial and life-giving was missing. All I could feel and see was the colour blue…and I realized that my sense impression of my hometown was just this ‘blue’ – a melding of the sky, mountains, and water, varying in gradation from day-to-day – that I had seen all my life.
The ocean has always been a respite for me. When I’m feeling anxious, I usually make my way down to the water, and seeing it provides me with the relief, comfort, and nurturance I need. Looking at its vast expansiveness, I feel that same expansiveness in my heart and chest – a release of constriction.
Having said that, I paradoxically see myself as a bona-fide city girl who probably spends more time checking her email than in nature. In my hometown of Vancouver, nature and city come together, but I hardly enjoy the natural wonders to the extent that I could. Living in the city is what is familiar to me. A part of me loves the excitement and hustle-and-bustle. And yet…this ‘excitement’ often drowns out the stillness in my mind and replaces it with chaos. When I’ve looked at the computer screen for too long or watched too much television or dodged too many shoppers on the concrete sidewalks, I can feel the effects. I get cranky, anxious…my mind buzzes and just won’t stop buzzing. My body feels on edge.
The answer to my malaise is so simple – more time in nature would alleviate my ‘city blues’. So why don’t I do it more often?
Here’s the thing: I only experience the ocean as a spectator. Getting into the water is another matter entirely. My ability to really breathe, when I look at the water, turns into near choking, when I imagine being engulfed by its massive power. Coupled with my deep appreciation for the ocean’s majesty is a strong trepidation of it. Where does the tide turn from benevolent to threatening? Why do I feel that it will engulf me? That it will submerge me, carry me away? Where does all this come from?
My instinct tells me that it may have something to do with feeling unsupported by the Universe. Respecting it (the Universe), but not trusting fully that it will support and protect me. I am at the ocean’s mercy. It’s not under my control. I see the sea as powerful, almighty…and this scares me! I stop at the edge…why am I scared to go deeper? How does this relate to my life in general? Breathing, choking…the colour blue is associated with the ocean, and also with the throat chakra – our center for expression. Emotional expression, stating our wants and needs…where in my life am I holding back with this? What am I scared of? Where am I scared to go deeper?
In Surfing into Spirituality and a New, Aquatic Nature Religion, Taylor (2007b) writes of the sublime, mystical states many surfers experience when riding the waves – a divine connection that one can only fully appreciate having experienced it themselves (pp. 923-951). I’ve always envied those that seem to be so at ease in the water – their ability to navigate the element that overwhelms me.
In recent years I’ve been feeling my personal spirituality in nature more than anywhere else. But has nature supplanted my traditional conception of a God who is to be revered and respected…but is ultimately judgmental and vengeful, should you make the wrong choice and upset it? If water can be seen as “a manifestation of the divine or governed by divine being or beings” (Taylor, 2007a, p. 864), what happens when a ‘negative’ version of God is transferred to nature, and nature itself becomes a source of both solace and fear?
If we are all life forms that are intimately connected, and if I’m not fully connected with nature, what does it say about my connectedness to others? Sometimes I feel I’m drifting through the physical world, unsure of my footing – my ‘place’ – and not feeling grounded to anywhere or anything. Maybe this translates into my fear of drifting off into a sea of nothingness. Maybe I am using the city walls to shield myself from fully letting go and allowing myself to be entrusted to the Universe – to the Divine, to other humans and other beings. As Cock suggests, “Our human centre ness is reflected in the denial of the rest of nature as a soclialiser, and our biology as a mirror, not only of our humanness, but especially of our kinship with other species” (p. 2). If I stay in my comfort zone (which is not very comfortable), if I am fearful of the sea, how can I feel really connected to – and therefore protective of – those beautiful creatures who live in it?
I think (as always!) Nature holds the answer. It’s time to just take the plunge. Maybe being submerged isn’t such a bad thing after all…maybe I will discover an even deeper joy and affinity for my sacred place. And thus to all other Beings.
Building a trust with the Universe…taking it step-by-step…getting my feet wet.
REFERENCES
Cock, P. (2004). Soul from Place. Retrieved from:
http://www.socialsacredecology.org/system/files/SoulFromPlace.pdf
Taylor, B. (2007a). Focus Introduction: Aquatic Nature Religion. Journal of the American Academy of Religion, 75(4), 863-874.
Taylor, B. (2007b). Surfing into Spirituality and a New, Aquatic Nature Religion. Journal of the American Academy of Religion, 75(4), 923-951.
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