Have you ever gazed from the shore, out towards the subliminal horizon? Where sky and sea blend into a seamless void. Out there, there sits a man filled with all the stories of the world. His being is translucent, like glass tumbled by roaring waves. His long white beard is woven from wisdom, speckled with the sheen of starlight and ocean spray. His eyes gossamer and faded, see differently to yours and mine. It’s likely you’ve looked his way before, so caught in a trance you didn’t realise it was he, who was telling you a story, through your daydream. 

Tonight he is surrounded by a village of women. Faces peer through a hazy blue, attentive eyes kissed by sunset colours as the light gently smoulders into a smudged night sky. Brows etched with worry the women have gathered hoping that tonight’s story will bring an answer to their hardship-laden shoulders.  

The man speaks slowly, so as to savour every word of wisdom. As though the taste of his tales are sweet to his own tongue, they fall from his mouth and he takes delight in this story being spoken. His words are deep-voiced, laced with the vast rumble of ocean waves. The women are present to every word.

‘Let me tell you of a woman’ He says with a smile, and a lengthy thoughtful pause before continuing. ‘She stands on the shore and has journeyed through darkness, the kind you may know. Her name is Carissa. She is the one you long to know. I’ll show you where you can find her. Are you ready to journey, my dears?’ He pauses. Takes time to meet the hearts of the women gathered and receives their nods. ‘You have been struggling, my dears. I see it in your bodies. I see you grasping for a moment where the world is still. Praying for existence to take a break. You pray as though such space exists, but it simply does not. Just as the tides continue to rise and fall, life, like the waves, continues to thunder. Your days continue. This is your torment now, but I assure you that your triumph is ahead. If you send your awareness across these waters all the way to the shore, you will see a woman.’ He pauses again. The women send their awareness across the waters to where she stands. ‘Do you see her there?’ Collectively they gaze to her.

White dress entangled by gusts of ocean air, her feet rest into the wet, salty sand. Wave upon wave, the water crashes into a thunderous rhythm, and rushes to her ankles. Her face is meditative and holds the energy of stories that could never truly be told. Long red hair tossed by the winds, she gazes towards the subliminal horizon, where the translucent man is gathered with the women. Each day she looks out to this horizon point, in prayer and contemplation. A moment of solace as she watches the waves swallow themselves to birth again. Dusk knits her day dreams into sleeping ones as day and night melt into a place of simply existing. A place of breath and body, of life’s innate rhythms and nothing else. The rise and the fall, to rise again. Where heaven and earth melt into an existential embrace, wrapped in such symbiosis that they cannot be told apart. This is where she is home. It is in this space she has come to know the translucent man, intimately and powerfully too. She hears him speaking her story to the village.

‘Any time the light fades in your life, call her name and send your thoughts across the great waters to her. She stands for you. For your triumph and the promise of a powerful rebirth. Her call commands to the elemental planes and the spirit ones too, that there is hope for you - for everyone.’ A tender smile emanates from his face.

‘Is it possible to meet her?’ One woman asks. Other women of the village nod in anticipation for the man’s answer.

‘Ah, but of course.’ The man speaks, ‘You simply have to call her towards you and she will come. Breathe deep into yourself, and summon her. It really is that simple. You can call for people, you can pray for them, don’t you know?’

As though prompted by divine synchronicity, the women each close their eyes. Together they hold their awareness upon Carissa and envision her walking towards them. First her ankles are submerged as she steps towards them. Then her knees, her hips, her breasts. As Carissa beckons their silent call and motions towards them, their anguish begins to lighten. One step at a time. Carissa walks into the Ocean Sky. Into a place so deeply submerged by life itself that air and water become one. The unseen worlds swallow Carissa, and the village of women see her still. In their mind’s eye, she is clear, and together they conjure a collective vision of her bloom. 

Her white dress floats in the star-speckled darkness, and an ethereal hum exudes from her body. Thick red hair moves like ocean water, and Carissa grows to a godly size. A song emits from her mouth, it is a song of the heart and beckons the village closer. Each of the women hear their own song, and allow it to harmonise with Carissa’s. Their melodies meld. Hearts beat together and reverberate through the great waters. Regal in her stance, Carissa is graceful, she is strong. All knowing and present to the journey, she invokes new inspiration in the women. Carissa’s presence ushers in a new certainty within each of them. She does not greet them with direct words. She does not tell them what to do. Her existence alone is the message they need; that the burdens of this life, those that are far too heavy for anyone to hold, can be given to the waters and taken away. That the great unknown is the only safe place to rest a weary heart. That triumph may sprout from the torment, and grow strong. That the sacred will corner you, into your own full existence, to not only usher in your death, but too - your birth.