Tag Archives: ocean

Blue Mind (Book Review)      

All the rest of these images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.

Blue Mind by Wallace Nichols soothed my soul. I’ve always known water is healing, transformative, magical…but learning some of the science behind those less concrete concepts was extremely affirming. Water is a great equalizer. Some people who are not as mobile as others are buoyed up, gravity no longer a concern. Others who are not comfortable with the vastness of open space can feel protected and enveloped by the extra pressure of water’s embrace. Anxiety and stress can be washed away. Addictions and obsessions can be rinsed off and replaced with water’s allure. And all of us benefit from even a glimpse of an image or painting of water, whether pond, lake, ocean waves, or waterfall.

I’ve always loved the sound of rain and waves. I think most humans’ nervous systems are calmed by those sounds, possibly because they mimic the earliest sounds we heard in our mothers’ wombs. This book delves into nearly any topic you can think of related to our love of water, from surfing, scuba diving, boating, fishing, snorkeling, sightseeing, swimming, and beyond. And even more fascinating, our brains on water can now be studied with advances in technology like fMRI machines. They are learning that spending time in, on, around, or near water enhances our focus, perception, creativity, memory, cognition, connection to others and nature, empathy, health, and mood.

The main thing this book confirmed for me is that I need to take more vacations to the beach, swim in the pool more often, and watch it rain every chance I get. And I probably need to drink more water, too. And science says so!

Nichols, Wallace J. Blue Mind, Little Brown and Company, 2014.

The Gulf of Mexico

AI Generated images prompted on Gencraft.com by Rebekah Marshall.

My first time in the ocean today, I got knocked down. I was trying to get to waist deep but did not have the strength to stand against her playful nudges. She seemed surprised and almost irritated that her friendly gesture toppled me and sent several really hard slaps to push me further toward shore.

Maybe she was trying to help, trying to get me back to safety, saying, “This one’s too delicate to be out here. She won’t last a minute.”

What she didn’t know is that I’m too weak to stand up once knocked down in her waves. I must get deeper to be more buoyant to be able to stand, especially with no balance and ever-increasing frequency of waves. Trying to crawl further out to sea became impossible. She made it impossible.

“You don’t understand, tiny human. I am dangerous. Go back to your dry land!”

We were not communicating in the same languages. Mine became unstoppable laughter, hers, ever-strengthening waves bent on pushing me to shore.

Somewhere about here my husband grew concerned. He wasn’t sure if I was communing with nature or in trouble and came closer from his comfortable beach chair to see.

“Thumbs up?” he questioned.

I shook my head no and waved for him to come rescue me. I couldn’t stop laughing as he began the slow trek my way, the gulf all the more insistent I exit the way I came.

I could stand or steady myself. I could not do both. So, with his presence, I stood, then grabbed his hand to help with balance, his stable strength what I needed to walk back to shore.

It was lovely. Not scary. Not painful, beyond the usual discomfort of being upright with joint pain. I went back to watching and listening from my shaded chair, exactly where I belong. This is how the ocean and I commune best. We sing to one another and just enjoy each other’s presence. Everyone is happier with that arrangement, especially my husband.

Addendum: I went back in twice more. He had to rescue me the 2nd time, as well. But the 3rd time, I made it to waist deep and back on my own two feet and felt so very, very pleased with myself.

Sleepswim

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/Ka7CjK

Seagrass meadows sway
in the gentle tide.
Filmy tendrils of feather
algae drift dreamily.

Intricate sea fans filter
the currents with webbed
lacelike celestial branches.
Manta ray glides lazily by.

Squid pulsates with a blush
of color, surprised to see me
walking among the undersea
forest of staghorn coral.

Kelp strand loops sweetly
around my hand, as if to say,
hello, old friend, good to see you,
as reef shark slips by slowly.

I wonder if fish sleepswim
in our dusty world of bright air
the way I sleepwalk naturally
in their fluid shadowy habitat.

Rebekah Marshall @Home Studio