The language of the ocean

Five years ago, my language of the ocean was limited. I knew waves, dumping, tides, storms, and calm.

Now I have a new language. I know the many different types of waves. Fat waves. Full waves. Dumpy waves. Sucky waves. I am learning to understand them as they approach.

Some waves, depending on where you are, travel thousands of kilometres to reach the shore. To even consider this fills me with awe. 

There are waves that break in the deeper ocean and waves that break on shallow reefs.

There are waves that are big and fat, which don’t make them feel to me like they are that big. And waves that are huge and dumpy. (Terrifying.)

I am far, far from fluent in the language of the ocean. Yet I am able to converse.

As someone who is limited to one spoken language, I have always been envious of those with fluency in other spoken languages.

I consider that most of us are multilingual. If you know farming, you know the language of the Earth around you. If you are a skier, you know the language of the mountain. 

If you are a Syntropic Steward, you know the language of all-human-dignity and all-in-accounting.

If you are a Syntropic Facilitator, you know the language of holding the space for self and collective awareness and synergy.

I am learning, will always be learning, the language of the ocean. She keeps me honest. Never is a wave the same. Billions of waves. Awe.

Like all things. 

Like humans.

Photo May 23rd 2025, Article written May 23rd 2025