The first time I remember singing to the sea was in Wales. I was at the edge of a cliff face, overlooking the ocean, and I felt compelled to offer a song. I imagine that I have been singing to the earth in some fashion since childhood, but this is the first time I remember it as a conscious choice.
I wanted the ocean to have a song. I wanted to be connected to this very special place, and felt that, if I gave it a song, perhaps this place would remember me in some small way. That I would become more a part of the ocean if I were to mingle my breath with the winds.
I gave the ocean the song that came to me in the moment, a spontaneous, improvised lilt, that rolled off my tongue from the depths of my heart.
I believe the world gives us these gifts, if we become still enough, and allow ourselves to listen. And when we receive these gifts, it feels only natural that we should give them back, in an ebb and flow of generosity.
Do you do things like this? Make offerings to the world, though it may not make sense to the rational mind?
Sometimes it is balm for our soul, even though we may not understand why.
Singing to the Sea. And Other Impractical Sacraments.