My best thoughts come in water. Certain I was part fish in another life, my husband often hears the phrase ‘I think I’m drying out’.
I ache for the sea. Unable to live more than five minutes drive from the shore, if I can’t smell salt in the air I struggle.
A gift from Poseidon, or maybe my Pisces moon, my creativity flows to the sound of moving water. Eternally feeling more at home beneath the waves.
Words and water perpetually intertwined, as though one can not be without the other, and both more needed to sustain my body than air.
The sea fuels me and lights my life. But before I learnt how to turn that fuel to fire, I always feared the depths would become my downfall. A dangerous comfort found in sinking, I had to learn to fight to overcome the call to return home.
And as I see newsfeeds filled with questions of ‘R u ok?’, I will always empathise and be there for those who answer ‘No’.
For I remember what it was to sink. For I know too well, we are the children of Sirens, and we have always longed for the sea.