Trio Watson

I was tempted at the end of a long day just to remind myself that it had been a Wednesday, and set my alarm for the following day. But the day had been a real treat – a day by the sea, a day of communion with the sea with a quality of resetting. Being raised a Quaker offers me relatively little in terms of ritual, but I do sometimes hunger for it. I was traveling with companions with a diverse understanding of Christian and Pagan practice, and a taste for real ale, who gave me a bit of space to be sensory and immersive. What is lacking, we are free to invent. As Quakers, all moments are sacramental.

I was seeking out something elemental and wild. I have cast flowers, sticks, and pebbles into river or sea water at various times to release something into the divine realm and ‘offer it up’. It seemed time for the sea to answer back with its pebbles, shells, light on water, and epic skyscapes. A wave hit me behind the knees, and I sat down unexpectedly into thigh-deep water, reminded of how small I was in the face of the power of the tides. I think the sea has to be the holiest water I know. I had showered before I went in – I wanted my paddling and swimming to embody something intentional, a wordless conversation. It was also a welcome break from the relentless focus on COVID biosecurity that competes for mental space with my spiritual practice. I came to receive, plastic tubs and camera at the ready. I brought home all the bits I could. And I feel different, now, to how I was before the sea appreciation ritual.

As friends, we swam and pottered about, our chat and beer and playfulness and quiet reflection all combining deliciously. The tides connect us directly to the gravitational pull of the moon, greater and stronger than our own swimming rigour. I noted that in life we are all pulled beyond our own willingness by various gravities – somehow the sea empathises with all of those and exceeds them. I enjoy looking at some of the unique and diverse fragments I collected, hoping these creative decisions could capture the thing of Sea-ness I cherish and miss during inland Oxford life. The sea can hold the emotional space of bereavement and loss, and it can still inspire wonder and ‘flow’ as well. That evening I was too energised to go to bed straightaway – somehow an untamed wave had got inside me, and I wanted to keep feeling that. This is my favourite photo from that day.

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Forty-Three Newsletter • Number 509 • September 2021
Oxford Friends Meeting
43 St Giles, Oxford OX1 3LW

newsletter@oxfordquakers.org