I think I was born for the sea. I remain hopelessly land-locked in my life, both physically and mentally. I don’t live near the sea. I don’t even live near a pond or a stream. I live next to a highway. I have very little experience with the sea. I don’t spend a lot of time on boats or fishing. I don’t even like to swim.
And yet … I don’t know how to explain it. When I am out on the open water, it feels “right”. It feels like I have finally found the place where I belong. I look out around me and see nothing but water. The sky is huge above me. It is as if I am inside a snow globe, but, instead of snow, there is nothing but water and sky. My mind toys with the idea that nothing else exists: there is just water and sky and this moment, right here and right now. And my heart loves that idea. My heart whispers back, “Yes. That is how it should be.”
I love to feel the waves under and around the boat. I love to hear them slap against the sides. I love to stand outside on the deck as the boat rolls and crashes through the waves. I love the cold of the wind on my face and in my hair. I love how the salt water makes my hair and skin feel sticky and a little bit clammy. The smell of the water … the unnerving quiet … the vastness of it … I love it all. I keep trying to find words to explain it, to describe my feelings, but, even as I struggle, it feels like a fool’s errand. My mind is too small to contain the vastness and the wonder that is the ocean. No matter how many times I go out on the water, I am amazed at the sight of it. How could it be so big? How could there be so much of it? How is it possible that I could exist in a place, in a universe, alongside this magnificent, magical thing?
I think, maybe, my soul could expand to fit the idea of the sea. And yet, my soul also has no words to describe the thrill of it all. When I am out there, I feel alive. If I let it, my very soul would come bubbling out of me in one huge, silvery, rolling laugh that would go on and on into eternity. The cold bites. The salt stings. The sea is dangerous. It would take my life, if it had a chance to do so. And yet, I will return to it time and time again, drawn by its power and beauty and magnificence.
At the end of the day, as the sun sinks into oblivion and colors the water orange and gold, I know I will head home. I will go back to my own life, back to the hum-drum of it all, and wave good-bye to the magic of the sea. But that night, maybe she will visit me still, and I will feel the gentle rocking of her waves in my dreams.