Ocean Archives - Owl Medicine: Shamanic Healing

Atlantic Ocean – Photo: L. Weikel

Ocean Oracle

It’s summertime (in the Northern Hemisphere, that is), a time of the year when many of us make a pilgrimage to the ocean if we’re not lucky enough to live near one. It doesn’t matter whether it’s the Atlantic, Pacific, Indian, or the Arctic* (since in fact there is only one ocean on Earth). The simple truth is that humans flock to the ocean for inspiration, rejuvenation, and relaxation. Thus I’m drawn to consult The Ocean Oracle created by Susan Marte, for some insight.

I mentioned quite a while ago that I thought I might consult various oracles now and again to give us some guidance through these confusing, turbulent, and increasingly unbelievable times we’re experiencing. It’s been weird: while I thought it was a great idea at the time, I’ve repeatedly felt a resistance to choosing from the myriad decks and other tools that are a part of my library. So I just go with the flow. And tonight, for whatever reason, I was nudged to pull some cards for us from The Ocean Oracle.

Point of Focus

I keep wanting to choose three cards for a wide-ranging discussion on what we need to contemplate over the next several days in order to get the most out of what will be unfolding in the world. But I feel a push back.

My own thoughts aside, I feel like I’m only supposed to choose one card for us to use as a Point of Focus. So I’m going to choose one card while holding the following question in my mind:

What do we all need to hold as our Point of Focus in order to gain the most benefit out of the next several days:

Ocean Oracle 39 – Stingray (Flow) – Susan Marte

Stingray – Flow

I think we can all relate to how this may be sound advice for us all to heed. We’re going to need to flow with whatever is thrown at us over the next few days (or weeks and months, for all we know). It’s easy enough for all of us to ‘intuit’ what this card is telling us. My sense is that we will want to keep repeating the mantra to ourselves, “Just go with the flow. Keep flowing. Don’t get caught up in the drama of others, because now – right now – our point of focus must be to go with the flow.”

As Susan Marte, the creator of the deck and a dear friend of mine, so beautifully states in the booklet that accompanies this unique and beautiful deck, “(…) You are the grace and ease and flow of the stingray as you navigate life’s waters.”

Note: I just want to point out that I wrote that second paragraph, above, before I chose the card on our behalf. So I had to laugh – when faced with the sense that I wasn’t supposed to do things the way I first ‘thought’ I was going to, instead of balking and forcing things, I chose to ‘go with the flow.’

I’m guessing I’ll need to keep that up. We all will.

*There may be less actual flocking when it comes to the Arctic Ocean, but I’m sure it happens.

(T-507)

Ocean or Mountain

I guess you could say I’m lucky I don’t have to choose between living in the mountains or living near the ocean.

If pressed, I would probably make the argument that I live in the best of both worlds: gorgeous countryside with an abundance of trees, rolling hills, farmland, and a life’s blood of creeks and rivers interwoven throughout. So why should I choose when I can visit both?

Water, Solitude, and a Striking View

As many of you know, when not relishing the beauty of my own personal environment (such as I indulged in last week), I’ve spent a decent amount of time recently in the Blue Ridge portion of the Appalachians known as the Smokies. And I’ve waxed on about the intoxicating beauty of that area.

Today, however, I had a chance to put my feet back into the Atlantic and feel the raw, primal power of the ocean. The scent of sea and salt here on Long Beach Island took me back to my summers on Cape Cod, as rolling mounds of blue green seawater rippled toward land, slapping against the sand in a massive swooshie sigh.

At first glance deceptively non-threatening, the mounds would rise suddenly out of their humpbacked travel into perfectly sharp-edged curls that resembled skateboarding ‘half-pipes.’ Seeing the mares’ tails spraying back at the topmost edges of those waves made me yearn to be back in the early years of my second decade of life, when body surfing would occupy my days for hours on end and I would fall into bed exhausted. Yet I almost always had just enough juice left to read a couple chapters under the muted light of the Christmas tree light sized bulb in the nightlight above my pillow. With the windows open, I could hear the distant roar of the Atlantic, and I could see the sweep of the “I-love-you” light of Nauset lighthouse across the pine treetops.

Wampum Memories

Yes, just putting me feet into the ocean made me yearn for those days when I walked with my mom and picked up wampum, giving each piece to her for inspection on whether it was good enough to pass her eagle eye.

Speaking of eagles, here’s one of the photos I wanted to post yesterday of an eagle that visited me at the Tohickon back in April in a moment of exquisite solitude.