Rivers to Ocean

surf good pic

As lovely as a river is- its constant and steady streaming liquid of rich blue green color effortlessly carving a winding path through mountains of strong standing trees, providing itself as a life vein for the abundance of flora, fauna and creatures which cushion the flowing water miles on each side- a river just cannot touch in the same way as the ocean.

Why not? What is in the ocean that a river is missing? After all, every river blends with every ocean at some point in some way.

Maybe it’s that salt in her sea blood that soaks into your skin, transfusing with your own vital fluid, working it’s way to your chest, pulsing out from there through all your veins, connecting with the same life-sustaining fluids that flow through the heart.

Maybe the waves, that huge vibrational span of energy we get a glimpse of from the space of its’ outer reaches, maybe that energy does not stop when the waves crash. Maybe it spills out further, shaking its way into the body of those present, pulsating from our heaven reaching heads down through our grounded earthly feet, oscillating out and back into its motherly mass, rattling our souls and beckoning us to her greatness.

Maybe what captures me most about the ocean is she has been there all my life, growing up with her as another mother, linking her inextricably as part of my foundation. In some way, everyone wants to be taken care of, nurtured, soothed, fed and kept warm by the beating chest of a beautiful mother, and I have been taken care of by mother ocean since birth. She has licked my footprints from the sand since the times I could not walk without another’s helping hand and has tasted the change as I now run the shores alone with her. Her splashing waves have always played with me, and deep from her belly has provided me with food. She has taught me harsh lessons in letting go- letting the waves rage their energy through as she tumbles me like a washer machine in her body, waiting for the calm to break the surface for another gulp of air. She has taught me that when you fight you exhaust yourself, but if you relax with the force at hand you can ride that wave ’till it’s end.

Spending days on the warm sandy shores of beaches feels fulfilling, exciting and welcoming- the crashing waves drawing you in on their out-pulse to sea.

Spending days on the hard rocks lining the river feels lazy, uneventful, and almost like I am not as welcome there, the river flows is course and I am just there, on the side. Even sister rivers are running toward their mother ocean.


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