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/ water /
Her​
Until we are in right relationship with the waters of this earth,
we will struggle to be in right relationship with anything.
This is a portal of reverence. A space for Her. The living waters. The mother ocean. The great alchemizer. She is not metaphor. She is memory. She is movement. She is alive.
A few winters ago, on the wind-wild Oregon coast, I found myself brought to my knees. The cold, the beauty, the silence—undeniable. There was no voice, and yet the message was clear. She asked for my devotion. And without hesitation, I said yes.
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Grace
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Just months after that winter on the Oregon coast, I stood again at the edge of the world—this time on the shores of Cape Town, South Africa, where three oceans meet at the southernmost edge of Afrika.
I was barefoot in the sand, eyes on the horizon, speaking again with Her. Reaffirming my devotion. Asking: what does it mean to walk in right relationship with the waters of this earth?​
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And then—just as I came back into my body, eyes open, breath still—I saw it. There, a few feet away, etched into the earth as if waiting for me, was the word: grace. My name.
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It hadn’t been there when I arrived. No one had passed nearby. It sat close enough to the tide that I knew it would be swept away within seconds.
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It was confirmation. A cosmic wink. The partnership was real.
Curriculum
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I do not walk this path as an ocean conservationist, though I bow to those who do. My devotion takes another shape. I walk as a steward of Her teachings. Of water as memory, as messenger, as mirror. Water as the element that knows how to hold, how to flow, how to dissolve, how to begin again.
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I walk with Her metaphors and her movements woven through my work—In this EssentialWe offering. I walk with Her in the current of my voice. In the way I choose to speak, listen, and shape transmission. Her presence is the source beneath the language. Her curriculum lives in the work.
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Invitation
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If you’ve ever felt the ocean speak to you—If you’ve heard something in the waves that had no sound—If your tears have tasted like home…You already know Her.
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And perhaps, you too, have been called. The question is not only whether we will return to Her, but how.
What does it mean to be in right relationship with water—not just as resource, but as relative? Not just as metaphor, but as mirror? Let this be your invitation to listen again.
To walk more slowly. To wonder how She is already speaking in your world—through storm, through stillness, through dream, through grief. Through the currents of your own becoming. Because She doesn’t only move in tides. She moves in us.
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