humpback

"let the heart beat out its ancient tone"

I have always carried a tremendous affection for whales. I have always said that in my next life, I hope to return as one. Their movement is of such a majestic nature, their demeanor so gentle and humble despite their gargantuan size. How is it possible?

And their song… Their voice. Their frequency of ancient mystery sung from the depth of the planet so we may remember.

My family was always quite entertained by my attunement to them. I was the unofficial whale spotter, typically the first to identify their spouts or breaches.

One of my favorite memories is of us gathered together last March on the West-facing shore of Maui. We watched a mother and child weaving in and out of sailboats and paddle boarders. It felt surreal, how close to shore they were. Their slippery backs shimmered in the setting sun.

I taught my family ʻOli Mahalo, a chant of gratitude. My mother began to cry.

“Mom, why are you crying?”

“It’s just so beautiful.”

Indeed, it was. All of it was. A moment captured in my heart that I cherish like a true treasure.

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I often become quite emotional seeing the whales greet us humans from their oceanic home. Silent tears that beg to sob, but I stifle the intensity away, for I am in public after all. I smile and taste the salt streams that find their way to my mouth.

Whenever I do notice them, I have the impulse to announce it to those around me. It’s as if to say: Listen. Remember.

A couple weeks ago, I was sitting on a patio at the Hyatt on the South shore of Kauaʻi. I was waiting to meet with an employee there. I watched the ocean as I felt all of my surroundings.

Behind me, I heard a familiar voice, but I did not look back. It was a woman interviewing for a server position at the hotel. She was a high school teacher also working at a restaurant. This would be her third job she was picking up.

I noticed the family directly in front of me. Every single person – mother, father, children – engrossed in their cell phones. Here they were, on this paradisiacal vacation, but… were they really there?

I was suspended in the middle of two very different worlds, and I kept my gaze devoted to the sea.

Not before long, there they appeared. Scalloped white pectoral fin raising out of the water as if to extend a warm greeting.

I was immediately taken back to a dream I had about a year ago. I was standing on the shore allowing the softly lapping waves to play hide-and-seek with my toes. The sun was near the horizon, and the sky’s golden light reflected into the water as if it were honey. There was no current in the water – it was quiet and still. A humpback rested at the surface the closest to shore I had ever seen. There were many people gathered to witness this welcome miracle, but he was focused on me. His eye was above the surface, and then below. Above … below… above… below. This was the only thing that broke our gaze, when his eye would go under. Eventually, he raised his pectoral fin. Water chandeleired like sparkling crystals as it emerged from the water and affirmed our kinship.

Galaxies in Her Eyes :: Photographed by Rachel Moore

It was a dream I will never forget. And this moment presented an opportunity to invite that spectacle of onlookers. These are not moments a person keeps to themselves — these moments of unequivocal awe. We all must listen and remember.

“Do you see the whales out there?”

The family in front of me understood I was addressing them, though they were timid at first.

One of the men glanced back. “What was that?”

I offered a tender grin. “The whales. They are spouting and waving directly in front of us.”

They did not say a word in response. They jumped up from their seats and went further out onto the lānai for a closer look. I watched it all with misty eyes. They were listening. They were remembering.

They thanked me later. I was grateful they didn’t miss it. How much beauty goes missed due to the parallel, fictional worlds that live inside our devices?

When I got up to leave and attend my meeting, I caught a glance of the recognizable voice from behind me. A woman I once worked alongside at the rural middle school.

Many worlds brushing shoulders in such an intimate space. All greeted, all sung to, by those ancient water bearers of the sea. Return to harmony.

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About a month ago, I dreamt that two strangers were urging me to enter their turbo-charged submarine for an underwater mission. I felt a resonant camaraderie with them; I immediately trusted them. Though I was a little nervous — for the submarine part — I joined.

We were deep in the sea; it was pitch black and extremely murky. There were no headlights on this submerged vehicle. We were moving at an unprecedented speed, and I cried out: “The whales! The whales! We are going too fast, what if we hit one?”

The captain assured me, “Don’t worry, we communicate via sonar. The whales are working with us and protecting us.”

Though we never saw any, I felt them around us. We reached what we intended to: something that resembled a satellite in space. The energy was tense and constricted with the stress of attempt to dock, and the three of us collectively exhaled when it was successful. The door opened, and this is where it has blurred from my conscious mind.

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This calendar week – in the waking world – feels akin to that dream. We are in the final moments of Piscean depths, rounding out with a Pisces New Moon on the 18th/19th depending on time zone. The waters are murky and saturated, but they are abundant with wisdom.

We are in the late degrees of processing what has been activated and remembered in the recesses of the psyche – the trenches of the abyss.

And with the fiery cornucopia of energy we are greeted with on Friday – the vernal equinox, ingress into Aries season, and direct movement of Mercury – we are successfully docking. The door is opening, and though we cannot yet see what we are met with there, we know we are supported, and we are profoundly gratified of our trust in the process of reaching there.

May you hear the song of the heart.

May you return to the wisdom of your soul’s True code.

May you move with embodied remembrance.

It is time.