If you don’t know about it, you can’t worry about it. If you don’t see it, it doesn’t exist. We humans live mainly on land. The Ocean is there, she gives us the water we need to live, as well as life and plenty of myths. We eat fish at a beach-side terrace. We stare at the waves as melancholy rages within us, even if the emptiness of the horizon remains a fairly abstract concept. Some of us swim, fish, sail, or try to stand up straight on a piece of wood in seemingly gentle waves. The Ocean is. A hidden world, invisible to us, simple mortals. The Sea giveth and the Sea taketh away. She doesn’t think. She is. There’s no wave that complains about another wave or a lack of space or too much noise. She is patient and merciless and always surprised that we still don’t realise how brilliant and amazing the water cycle actually is and how she can serve humanity as a metaphor for harmonious, obvious universal unity. Random, different undefinable molecules have apparently created the phenomenon we call water. A weird, liquid, wet, permanently travelling form of energy. What is this weird stuff, really? Water! Only God knows, since there are millions of souls who cling tightly to the idea of a creator. The Ocean hides a deep truth. Every raindrop, hailstone, snowflake rises up to great heights without anyone asking and gives the land what it needs. Such discipline, such finesse and perfection, that every drop that falls in a forest, on a mountainside or on a stretch of farmland eventually flows back to where it came from, easily and unobstructed as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. A unity that manifests itself continuously in endless variations. The mystery of what happens below the sea remains hidden, for now. Maybe that’s not surprising, considering the destructive period we, humanity, are in right now. But we, humanity, are also the Ocean. That’s a realisation that’s hard to find. We don’t see it, we, sleeping humanity.