We drove two and a half hours to the coast with Anika’s photography class for whale watching. Leo was wildly overstimulated and sensory-seeking. The car ride was long, and the wait to board the boat required every skill I’ve honed over the years with them. I worried about how the next four hours would unfold.
But as the boat began to move, I watched Leo regulate. The vibration of the motor, the sound of the water surrounding us, the rocking lullaby of the waves—all of it seemed to hold them.
I asked what they meant, and Leo explained: “This is the beginning of life. We were created here.”
As only Leo can, they reminded me how to be fully present. I told them how I always cry when I first see the ocean. I began, “I’m always overcome by—” and Leo interrupted, finishing the thought: “Its power.”
I nodded. We both grew quiet again. I looked at Leo and whispered, “It is a coming home.”
Leo smiled, and together we turned back toward the water. The boat carried us forward with more gentleness, more patience, more joy.
Later, my dad came by and I shared what Leo had said. I translated to his language: “I am the ocean and the ocean is I.” He nodded and said simply, “That’s it.”
For me, standing before the ocean always brings awe. I long to bow before its power and beauty. It reminds me of my own worthiness. We are made of the same. How humbling to feel part of it all—and at the same time, to feel as if I am an equal to all that beauty.
My dad and children stood side by side- scanning the ocean for whales. I watched them laugh and giggle together. And then, without warning, the voice again echoes inside of me: moments like these are fleeting. My whole being wanted to grasp it, hold it, not let go.
My heart's clench was broken by a juvenile humpback surfacing beside the boat. I didn’t reach for my phone. I knew I didn’t have time. All I could do was witness—and remember.
As global warming tightens its grip, as the ocean faces its death, a baby humpback still plays. Fleeting moments but they are not lost. They are within us.
How silly it is to grasp-the ocean lives here. And isn’t that what it all means? Isn’t it all a coming home again?
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