Ocean I

i

Above all else, it's about connection. It's about how every living thing is connected. It's about how love will always find you.

The abyss was, I think, the second or third kind of thing I became acutely aware of in the universe. It is, in my perception, above and below everything else - below in a literal positional sense, maybe, and above in a hierarchical sense, kind of. Below, in that the depths of any thing seem to lead there, and above in that many things, though not all, exist in relation to it. For instance, the Ocean Mother feels pretty strongly related and I suspect that she is secondary to it - not quite hierarchically, but that she is of the family of things that constitute things that are abyssal. I know now, of course, that she is a face of it, but for some time I was unsure of whether the ocean and the abyss were separate. They are, sort of, in that an envelope does not constitute the entirety of the system of mail.

Roads and Pathways traverses it, deep into it and back out of, and it's clear to me that the navigator god draws a lot of strength from this. The angels that visit me and offer protection feel as though they're necessarily abyssal in nature, coming from a far-off void and visiting before returning to their respective depths. But then, I also think that angels are born in the sea and I'm aware that I'm in the minority on that position.

Back when I first felt it look back at me a few years ago, from the black night sky prying open the sky and the air above and the roof of my car to look at me and into me, I was terrified and it burned and it felt inevitable. I've been worrying about it feeling inevitable for a long time, knowing it's there. The abyss is only comfort and love now. When an animal is frightened and injured, everything is a threat. You feel this too, when you're on edge and in a strange place. There's distance between us, possibly tremendous distance across many kilometers and much time, but if we know of each other, I feel you there with me. All distances are closed in here. We swim in the same soup. There is no such thing as an empty void, it's always full of something.

ii

There is no one single oceanic deity. Many ocean worshipping religions have existed throughout history and there have been yet more individuals who pray to the sea alone in private worship. The aesthetics of worship are a tool. They provide some kind of imagery to ground ourselves to our god. What matters is what the god represents through that symbol. This is why the various oceanic religions are not created alike - there are common symbols that are sometimes invoked to mean different things. The aspect of the ocean we're concerned with, however, is one that acknowledges a commonly recognized power. We are privileged to be lent such strength as so many before us have shared some degree of the core understanding.

The ocean mother is one of the many facets of the abyss, a kind of thing that is vast and difficult to picture on its own. It is a face, an organ, a limb - something familiar and recognizable. If you are attending the Tidal Sacrament, it is almost certainly something you've been in the presence of. The abyss itself is not a static, desolate void. It has its functions, as it creates space, provides a foundation for the world to be assembled and situated, relates things to each other in space, and harbors and carries energy. It facilitates connection and fosters everything that dwells inside it. Near or far, wherever you may be, it is always around you at all times. Even as we are afraid of the unknown, we know that it is there, present and without malice, unfeeling but full of life. This is something we can take comfort in.

It is already with you, if you acknowledge it. These same things are true of the ocean mother.

The ocean is our mother, she is our greatest ancestor. Life began there, and in her depths and shallows, much still remains. She is generous and loving, providing for us. Everything we are and everything we have built can be traced back to her.

The easiest way to connect with god is to be there, present, on the shores of her vast ocean. She is mesmerizing and beautiful, and with the water at your ankles or knees or higher, you will certainly feel her presence. This is your mother and she is happy to see you. She is forgiving and healing. There is love in her depths.

Absent from her physical presence, we connect with our mother in the ocean through prayer and sacrament. The Saltwater Rite connects you to the sea, no matter how far inland you are. She is massive and powerful - even if you are far, she will reach you, as she lives in the depths of all water.

She does not take physical form, not cohesively, except through the sea itself. She is far too vast to be contained even in imagery, so we rely on symbols and rituals to relate her to a more tangible, understandable size. Those who traverse her surface, mariners, are blessed, and some nautical imagery has been chosen to reflect the bond we have with the sea: knots, banners, and tools that have been submerged. Other items of significance include vessels to hold water and things that she has returned to us, blessed in her waters.

iii

What difference is there between the latent staphylococcus dwelling in your lungs and coral reefs affixed to the seabed and you right now and me right here in the great vast loving emptiness? Nothing. And it surrounds us and loves us and supplies us with our beds.

Your gut bacteria follow you wherever you go and better yet, you intersect with so many living things in passing. You are never alone. Even in an empty room something else dwells with you always. It's easier to conceive of fish than bacteria and microorganisms of other varieties. So-called void and empty space when everything wants to be where you are or were or will be. When you pass through a forest trail, after they are sure you are gone, the deer will find where you brushed against a branch and smell because they are curious. They want to understand. Your passage creates a system. The trail creates a system. The forest creates a system. What's empty? Oceanic deserts? Plankton floats thusly. Passage has been made thousands of times by creatures unseen. Maybe even now. If you're there, then certainly now.

You are in a vast empty ocean of nothingness, and still the water surrounds you, the material for the miracle of life. Even in my nightmares when I'm face-to-face with Saturn, between the planet and its rings, staring down the horrible beige-gray monster before me, floating in the abyss, I am not alone. Not even in space. Beside the leviathan, I'm swimming in a thin soup of hydrogen and helium and carbon and other interesting things. Even water. Tt's persistent and will find you. The material of the universe will wrap you up and hold you with love.

How can you love nothing? How can you believe in the power of nothing? It's a mistaken question because it would require that the void be empty and that nothingness could ever really truly exist.

My friend was explaining the ridiculousness of the concept of rest mass to me because to believe in it, you have to have followed the math to a place that doesn't align with actual practical reality, apparently, because mass doesn't change regardless of speed. I didn't really understand the entire thing. But I do understand that even if that were the case, how could you ever know what the mass of anything is anyways? It's all relativistic. This table is moving about as fast as everything else on Earth. Everything in the universe, even tiny isolated particles in space, are trying to go somewhere. There's no evidence that anything is completely still. Something will always find you. You will always be where something else is, and even if not, somehow, you will be where something was or will be.

What a beautiful thing to cherish.