The Meaning of It All
I love water. Growing up in a suburb of Madison, Wis., I was surrounded by lakes. Fishing, boating and swimming were activities we took for granted.
I’ve always loved being by water, which makes sense, I suppose, partly because I am a water sign (Cancer).
Water is vital to our very existence on this planet. A person can live a month without food, but no longer than a week without water. We live on a predominantly water planet. Almost 72 percent of our world is water. But I never saw the ocean until my family took a trip out West in 1969.
Then, in 1982, when we again took a trip to California and visited an ocean beach near San Diego, my then 2-year-old son Marty screamed and was frightened by the ocean. (Later in life he moved to that area in California and spent many years there.)
In 2011 Doug and I took a trip to the Pacific Northwest. When we reached the coast at Newport, Ore., and I saw the ocean again … I was ecstatic. I’ll never forget the glee on Doug’s face when he saw how excited I was to be there. Actually, it had been a number of years since he had seen salt water himself, after leaving the Coast Guard.
As we traveled up the West Coast toward Washington’s Olympic Peninsula, I felt more drawn to the sea. What a magnificent, powerful force of Nature this is.
Oceans contain 99 percent of living space on the planet, according to “Ocean Facts” from marinebio.org. Fifty to 80 percent of all life on Earth is found under the ocean’s surface, and less than 10 percent of the oceans have been explored. Oceans comprise 97 percent of Earth’s water supply.
While vacationing in Washington and Oregon the last couple of years, Doug and I enjoyed the ocean and beaches, which are different in the Northwest than in, say, warmer areas of the country such as Florida and the Gulf—which I have also seen. The rugged shoreline of Washington and the beauty of the Straits of Juan de Fuca and Vancouver Island are unsurpassed. We feel drawn there.
Some lightworker friends are concerned about my choice of relocation. They say it is not safe to live by an ocean. “There could be a tsunami.” Well yes, I suppose that could be true. But a lot of things can happen to the planet, no matter where you live, even here in the Four Corners region.
The Pacific Ocean occupies one third of Earth’s surface. According to scientists, the sea level has risen an average of 10-25 cm over the past 100 years, and it will continue to rise, probably on a gradual basis. If all of the world’s ice melted, the oceans would rise 66 meters. That’s fairly significant, but it’s not enough of a fact to scare me from going to a location that I want to experience.
When I was a little girl, people talked about earthquakes in California and Japan. Fear kept me from considering moving to those places, and yet people still live there and life goes on. Devastating tornadoes continue to batter the Southeast and Midwest (including Wisconsin, where I grew up) and people remain there. Destructive hurricanes bombard the East Coast, yet people simply rebuild and go on with their lives. Forest fires and drought have plagued the West and Southwest, yet this is where we live and we even put up with frantically cold winters here in Pagosa Springs.
People cannot let other people tell them where to live. Priorities sometimes dictate where one chooses to live. For instance, if you’re into making a whole lot of money and want a lucrative job, you’ll probably move to a big city where there is more opportunity. I’ve never lived in a big city and do not care to. Some people don’t ever leave their hometowns, including some family members I know.
I’ve always liked experiencing life in different areas of the country. But now that I am older, finding the right vibrational location is what matters to me.
The ocean calls me. At night, after the lights are out, I turn on my “Ocean Waves” CD and it lulls me to sleep. There is mystery about the ocean and the life it contains. It is alive. It is tranquil and it is dangerous. Ask my sailor.
It is such a large part of Earth and I’m looking forward to those days ahead when I can walk those rocky, sandy beaches once again and smell the salt, listen to the roar of the surf, feel the wind-whipped mist upon my face, and focus my binoculars on what’s out there, popping its head out of the water or taking wing in the salty air.
Earth is a precious gem. Savor it.
To see other articles from the February 2013 Star Beacon, visit www.earthstarpublications.com