An Ocean Invitation by Madonna DePalo

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An Ocean Invitation

By Madonna DePal

The most exhausting thing in life, I have discovered, is being insincere. That is why so much of social life is exhausting; one is wearing a mask. I have shed my mask. —Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Gift from the Sea

It’s been many years since I’ve read Lindbergh’s Gift from the Sea. Written in 1955 on Florida’s Captiva Island, Lindbergh explored her life, her relationships, and the roles of women in society using seashells found on the beach as her inspiration.

I was in high school when this book was assigned reading. I remember not only how Lindbergh’s words gave me pause to think about topics I’d never considered before, but also how this book intensified an already strong and mysterious pull to the ocean, something I’ve had all my life. Like Lindbergh, I’ve discovered that the sea holds tremendous gifts for self-exploration … and for healing.

I clearly remember my first visit to the ocean as a child. I was with my grandparents and it was winter. Not your usual time for an ocean visit. This was a special trip just for me, a spontaneous gift from my grandparents who knew of my interest in nature, particularly whales and dolphins—beings I have always felt a close connection to and cherished.

I wondered what mysteries lay under those waves, but my clearest recollection of that trip is how I felt being there, alone except for my beloved grandparents. I felt peaceful and happy, a feeling new to me as my childhood was quite turbulent.

I ventured to Assateague Island National Seashore on one of my winter visits, a national park and Maryland barrier island on the eastern side of the Delmarva peninsula, home of the wild Assateague ponies. Some people believe these ponies are the descendants of those who washed ashore from the wreck of a Spanish galleon, others believe early settlers brought the ponies to American shores. I only knew that I had to see them. They intrigued me.

Assateague Ponies

Assateague Island National Seashore Camping Vacation 2016 - Horses on the Beach" by Mrs. Gemstone is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0

The Assateague ponies are small, not like the wild mustangs of the American West. They have shaggy winter coats and rounded bellies, a natural side effect of eating salt grass. They are free to roam where they want, protected by the park service. Visitors are instructed to observe but not touch.

I remember sitting in my car on the side of the road, watching the ponies as they walked about and thought how absolutely free they were … to go where they want, when they want, to be themselves, knowing they are protected at all times and able to venture into the ocean surf if they desired to play, cool off from summer’s heat, or simply be with the ocean’s healing presence. Free to be.

It struck me that I wanted to be like this pony—confident, present and authentic, trusting that his needs would always be met and that no harm would come to him. He was not concerned with the future or the past. He lived in the present moment as himself with his family around him. Content, wild and free. “You can be me,” he seemed to say, “by being yourself.”

But in accepting the pony’s gift, this clarity into dropping the mask of who I was not, I had to examine why I wore the mask at all. Why did I put it on, and what was I hoping to hide from the world … and from myself? Again, I turned to the ocean—both in the physical and spiritual sense— for help and healing.

Always so stoic, pushing down my feelings just to make it through another day, to stay strong for my children and friends, I didn’t realize how much I had brushed aside my own needs to take care of others. A lifelong pattern. I discovered a lack of trust in myself, in my own inner knowing.

Credit: JeremyBishop_Unsplash

It was a false self, one that others expected me to be, a self that didn’t honor who I truly was but perpetuated an illusion. It was comfortable, I was used to it, but it wasn’t authentic. I wanted to be free.

I had to be willing to do the same if I wanted to live my life as free as they did, as free as the Assateague pony, as free as all authentic beings. So, I dove into the deep end of the ocean, into me, a little afraid, but more afraid of remaining where I was, wearing a mask that didn’t fit anymore.

W e can skim the surface or dive deeply into the depths. As free souls we each decide, but if you choose to don your scuba and explore your own ocean, be gentle with yourself, honor your unique journey and embrace the unknown.

You too will discover your gifts from the sea.

Madonna

Courtesy of Madonna DePalo

About Madonna DePalo

Madonna DePalo is a certified Usui Reiki Master and Angel Card Reader. She is an intuitive empath, award-winning didn’t fit anymore. floral designer, animal welfare and environmental advocate with a lifelong connection to the sacred Cetaceans.

Madonna is a nature lover who enjoys digging in her garden and planting beautiful flowers—especially petunias—of pinks, whites and purples.

Madonna is author of The Sound Weavers which can be purchased at http://bit.ly/SoundWeaversLulu

She lives in Perry Hall, Maryland, by the beautiful Chesapeake Bay with her human family of five and a larger family of silly squirrels who come to her door and beg when the outside peanut supply is depleted.

To purchase Sound Weaves: http://bit.ly/SoundWeaversLulu

Courtesy of Madonna DePalo