Loving Atlantis

I am once again visiting the North Atlantic. Odd. I spent so many years living near and loving the Pacific. Yet there is a pull here. Unmistakable and undeniable. And odd.

The last time I felt it this strongly was in 2015 whilst leading a vision journey on the coast of Brittany in France. The scouting mission, which yielded one of the most spectacular sunsets I have yet witnessed, led me back to this location so that others might experience the magic and the mystery.

As part of that second journey, the group of us ventured out to the beach under a cold full moon. The baseball-sized pebbles make walking above the shoreline an adventure in balance, especially in the dark. I made my way to a promontory formed by the now-ebbed tide and sat down on the rocks for what seemed like a very long time. One of my friends brought his iPhone over, playing a piece of music we had collaborated on together. "Listen to this along with the surf," he said quietly, then melted away into the darkness. I listened, the pull into the water becoming more and more unbearable.

As I gazed out to sea, I saw the curve of a flipper roll quietly offshore. Beckoning, the seal spoke softly of the calm embrace of the waves. I laughed quietly, deep in my heart, knowing I wanted to walk into that water and never return. Some part of me wanted to walk into the sea and keep walking. Not suicidal by any means. I don't have those impulses. More a walk into eternity, assisted by the marine life that inhabits that bay.

Today, as I sat in a more populated area having a chat with the seabirds, my attention was suddenly drawn beneath the surface of the slightly rippled water as it flowed grey under a cloudy sky. The sun has reappeared as I write this. Absent for the past three days it laughs at me and my musings. "Look. The light on the water always takes you home." It does, yes. Always. And yet...

Today the pull to walk into that water and keep walking was as strong, the urge to sit and meditate for hours arguing with my stone-chilled bum. Sitting for one more minute, then another, as I fought the urge to simply walk into the wet and be absorbed. Not that the cold water wouldn't most likely send me thrashing for shore a few minutes after.

What is it about Atlantis? The pull of high vibration lived consciously and with intent? The mystery of what many call a myth and some a legend? Or maybe the time has come to bring that vibration home... here... now.

For whatever reason, the North Atlantic was my friend today. And I am grateful. And to you, for perusing the musings.

Be well!