Emotion on the Atlantic Ocean

"You are one with the ocean. You move, the ocean moves, and the power of the ocean is you.“

— Marianne Williamson

Spain has two beautiful faces: one is the popular retirement and vacation center along the Mediterranean Sea, also known as the Florida of Europe, with islands of Californian allure, and the other is a cold rainy strip of rocky coast in the north that ends on a much colder and rainier western hilly corner. It´s a region called Galicia, where I come from. In recent times, in one serious attempt of rebranding with probable unintentional irony, it got the catchy but slightly misleading name of “Galifornia”. I recognized of course that I am happily biased by early firing and wiring its long sandy beaches full of grass animated by fierce winds with the images of the virgin coast of North Carolina or even the Hamptons (but without the mansions).

Growing up in this coastal region, the pull of the ocean and its defining imprint on me always felt like a love story meant to be. Despite all the beach boys on a Surfin´ Safari, I´d still fall for the sea. This was a first love that withstood the test of time and a limbic system impairment, and through all my rewiring process, it also became An Affair to Remember.

I love the ocean more than I can say. As a child, nothing could ignite my imagination more than the vision of the summer sun spreading its kingdom of sparking light over the body of water. I thought this was how starfish were born. The shiny warm sand I enjoyed sinking my feet into struck me as magnetic and grounding even when I couldn't name why. The ocean was my first Happy Place and its foundation was literally a hypnotic love.

There was also fear. I was so afraid of water that, despite trying to learn how to swim, it was something I just couldn't do. Still, I dreamed of swimming: in the ocean, in the pool, in any place. Nevertheless, for a long time, I stopped trying, or this is what I thought. The truth is, I had only set it aside, in the way Lynn Weathcraft describes in her amazing blog “Walking”. I just didn’t know it back then. It looked like I gave up. Love and fear wrestling within me. Who would succeed?.

More than ten years ago, in my late twenties, a first limbic injury occurred. I quickly got the best support available for my situation at that time. It was a miracle I was so grateful for. However, I knew something intangible had changed in me and not for the better. It was my energy, but I was of course unaware. Luckily, the power of my gratitude was strong enough to overshadow this dark force evolving for a while and pushed me to celebrate this new chance in life by… learning to swim!! To my amazement, it flowed so naturally. In no time I had transformed into a swimming butterfly. “For there is always light, if only we´re brave enough to see it, if only we´re brave enough to be it.” This verse by Amanda Gorman turned my courage into poetry.

Still, the dark force evolving started to act like ominous clouds on the horizon. Swimming had taken me back to the ocean, but then I didn’t want to swim anymore. I got attracted to the storms. Giant waves, disrupting winds and electric grey skies. For years, the remains of the hurricane activity in the Gulf of Mexico hitting the North Atlantic coast were my limbic system´s finest way of entertainment. It was “limbie´s” mirror neurons, a clear sign of another storm, but on the inside this time.

Shortly after this “perfect storm” caused the overflow in my central nervous system, I found in DNRS the right engineer for the new pathways and in myself their building force. My practice, especially in the beginning, was often about visualizations of oceanic landscapes and experiences from my childhood memories just because they were so “dosed”. When I wanted to go back to adulthood, I faked them: I always rejoiced in a blue calm and bright sea and I slowly found peace.

I used to see my recovery progress as a sailing trip, in which I took on board a lot of metaphors that fueled my recovery through authentic tidal power. The very own terminology of the program, Ebbs and Flows for challenges and progress, was everything I could hope for: I saw myself (Higher Self) learning to master the navigation of sophisticated high-tech ship (my Brain) and when the ebbs seemed to make me drift away, I always found a way to go with the flow.

Until I reached the dreamed port.

The truth of my relationship with the ocean made me review one of the lessons from rewiring my brain that is most anchored in me: Not having been my true self. The truth is that I have been my true self the whole time: Through the true grit that brought me light in the midst of fear by learning to swim, through my determination in finding a solution and implementing neuroplasticity following my mantra “little by little”, and definitely through the Divine Power that brought me to who I have become. With brain rewiring, however, I feel it, stay connected to it, and become conscious of it. Thank you Dr. Joe Dispenza for these truths.

We are Energy Centers. The ocean never stops moving and we never stop becoming.

Blessings to you all.