It is summer of 2023, I turned down commercial fishing as my gut told me to stay put and accept a position with migrant education as a summer school tutor.
She is the oldest in her Ukrainian/Russian family and looks tired. She smiles at me and as I quickly read the energy I am led to go to my teacher for guidance, outside.
My teacher first instructs me to be hush....I swallow my questions and we begin simply, walking.
We make our way to the basketball court and the Professors lead us in a few stretches, deep breaths a double high five and back inside.
The lesson must have been downloaded to me through those deep breaths as the remaining 60 minutes of our time together went nothing as I had planned.
Recycled cardboard, glitter crayons, music of her choice later, she begins to speak:
"Do you ever feel like there isn't anybody who understands you?"
I look up and smile a smile of understanding.
"Is it okay if I draw myself in a box with a puddle around me?"
"Of course."
I watch her as a gentle smile crosses her face and a beautiful ocean surrounds the drawing of a stick figure floating there within the box.
She has been sea/n.
Perhaps the Ocean is the immensity that she is, because, she too... is seen. The Ocean is heard. The Ocean is witnessed and the Ocean is certainly felt.
I pray that all find the witness to be seen, heard, witnessed and felt.
There may be times in your life where that person is nowhere.
The Ocean will Be.
She will collect your tears allowing you to float amongst them and the others of the primordial past; she will lift you as you release.
As she washes you back to shore, trust she forever keeps watch.
She will listen and she will hold you.
Thank you Body of Water.
Thank you 7th grader.
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