She of the Sea Quotes

“May yours be the sparkle of light on the ocean,
The whisper of foam on the sea,
The warm sand guiding your feet safely home,
A pebble in your pocket from me.

Some sea glass, a starfish, some driftwood, a whelk,
Treasures washed up on the shore.
A flower, a feather, an urchin, a pearl,
Keep your eyes open for more.

May you know yourself held in the palm of Her hand,
Blessed by the waves wild and free,
Blown by the wind, anointed with salt,
Beloved of She of the Sea.”
― Lucy H. Pearce, She of the Sea

“There is something almost religious about the call of the sea, the connection we feel that transcends the mundanity of daily existence. It
simultaneously reminds us of our smallness and our interconnected-
ness. It awakens within us the eye of the artist, the voice of the poet,
the soul of the mystic. It reignites an awareness that beyond this lies
something vaster. The water, pulled by the moon, ever-moving but
ever-remaining, seems to speak to something elemental within us in
ways we can barely find expression for, yet find ourselves driven to
try, nonetheless. It has inspired storytellers, artists and musicians of
many cultures and genders throughout history. The sea sings through
us…if we let her…as we in turn channel ourselves through her.”
― Lucy H. Pearce, She of the Sea

“If magic was a colour,
That colour would be sparkling blue”
― Lucy H. Pearce, She of the Sea

“We are bodies of water…birthed from bodies of water…drawn to bodies of water.”
― Lucy H. Pearce, She of the Sea

“Every aspect of the sea holds profound metaphorical
power. The outer seascape provides so many corollaries for human
psychology in general, and women’s psychology in particular. This
is the reason it has haunted the myths and legends – the psychology
before psychology – of so many cultures. And it is why water is present in most spiritual rituals. The sea speaks to the soul. Our ancestors
knew that beneath the depths lay much wisdom. They knew that the
way to our own depths was through the depths of the ocean.”
― Lucy H. Pearce, She of the Sea

“I have spent my life clinging to my own shores for safety. Flying like a bird above the storm waters of my own body, too scared to land. I guess that is why the sea floods in to visit me. I have been too frightened to venture out into her depths alone. The central core of me is dark and churning, I can only sense it vaguely. It scares me with its power. As a late-diagnosed autistic woman, I realise that this experience is partly neurological…my sensory abilities are all hyper-aroused on the surface, and my nervous system melts down when it becomes overwhelmed in everyday places. But my ability to know what is going on within is flawed. Instead of an accurate information readout, there is a big, dark, unknowable mass within. I am sailing blind without map or lighthouse within my own skin. It feels a very scary place to have a life sentence. This is why I write: to attempt to find words for what this big scariness is, to try and find images to give form and name to the wild churning expanse.”
― Lucy H. Pearce, She of the Sea

“Humans get hungry for blue, it seems: to hold the sea in
their hands, to wear the sky in their hair, to drape themselves in the hazy blue of distant mountains. Blue is more
than a colour: it is a feeling. We don’t say that we feel orange or
purple, but we say we feel blue when our souls are sad and heavy. We
play or sing or listen to the blues to express this sensation. Like any
colour, it cannot be adequately described with words, only experienced, known through the eyes and the soul.

Making blue has always been magic: the domain of alchemists since the beginning of human history. To find red only required blood or
berries or the smearing of red clay. To make brown was as simple as
reaching down to the earth beneath one’s feet. White chalk is plentiful in many places, or can be replaced by fire ash. But blue appears
rarely in forms from which paints or dyes can be made…blue requires earthly magic.”
― Lucy H. Pearce, She of the Sea

“I have spent my life clinging to my own shores for safety. Flying like a bird above the storm waters of my own body, too scared to land. I guess that is why the sea floods in to visit me. I have been too frightened to venture out into her depths alone. The central core of me is dark and churning, I can only sense it vaguely. It scares me with its power. As a late-diagnosed autistic woman, I realise that this experience is partly neurological…my sensory abilities are all hyper-aroused on the surface, and my nervous system melts down when it becomes overwhelmed in everyday places. But my ability to know what is going on within is flawed. Instead of an accurate information readout, there is a big, dark, unknowable mass within. I am sailing blind without map or lighthouse within my own skin. It feels a very scary place to have a life sentence. This is why I write: to attempt to find words for what this big scariness is, to try and find images to give form and name to the wild churning expanse.

Pearce, Lucy H.. She of the Sea”
― Lucy H. Pearce, She of the Sea

“We are taught to believe that we do, or rather we should, come from one place. We are raised to be
proud of the land we call home, to be happy to spill our blood – or the blood of our children – to protect it. But what about those of us that don’t come from just one place, just one land? Who find our souls
stretched and bisected by bodies of water? Those of us whose identities are more fluid than small tick-boxes on forms allow for. This is the reality of so many of us, whose nationalities, genders or neurology are neither one thing or another, but inherently fluid, both/and. How do
we honour this fluidity? We, I think, are perhaps more likely to honour the sea in ourselves, in our identities. We are we of the sea.”
― Lucy H. Pearce, She of the Sea

“I write for each one of us who is remembering what magic is… what it means…what it can be… We, who are remembering that it matters. We, who are exploring how to better work with the power and cycles of the natural world. We, who are learning how to unite our will, voice, intention, imagination and action to make the impossible possible. The sea helps us to remember that magic is all around us, if we have the will to see it. It is the flicker, the glimmer, the moment that causes a sharp intake of breath, the unexpected, the rediscovered, the cherished, the improbable, the miraculous in the midst of the mundane. It is sunbeams dancing on waves and moonbeams silvering the land. The eerie glow of bioluminescence illuminating a dark sea and fog’s disappearing spell. It is the stars appearing each night, rainbows hidden in water drop lets and the silent power of riptides. It is a flock of birds flying patterns in the sky, traversing oceans to the same nest. The majesty of a school of whales breaching together. The haunting sound of their song traveling for miles through the water. It is a heart-shaped pebble waiting to be seen by a broken-hearted lover. A feather found in answer to a prayer. It is the iridescence of an abalone shell, the pull of the moon on the ocean, the creation of a pearl from a grain of sand. It is energy in flux, the fluid and ever-becoming, the perfectly formed, the microcosm reflecting the macrocosm, the hidden revealed. It is the impossible just out of reach, the delightful, the colourful, transformation as it happens… It is the unseen soul in action. Everywhere. Magic happens in the edge spaces, where consciousness meets unconsciousness, energy meets matter, soul meets world. It takes place in the liminal space of birthdeath, here-not-here, on the edge of possibility. It requires a state of consciousness where we are able to perceive – and potentially influence – the connections between the material and the spiritual, the literal and the metaphorical. It is the imaginal realm, where all that is first comes into form. It is what arises naturally in us, if we allow ourselves to remember the miracle of our very existence and that of this habitable planet.”
― Lucy H. Pearce, She of the Sea

“Magic is a word that we use to express a sense of awe and wonder at the inexplicable or unexpected. It is how we reference the way that the rational, logical world seems to vanish from our eyes and another stranger, wilder and more beautiful one takes its place. One where our relationship with our environment is alive, vital and visible. One in which we are active participants. Where the creative imagination is a force as powerful and undeniable as gravity. Where birds and waves seem to heed our voice, where the sun harks our call, where time stands still and the mythic re-emerges. Where the impossible becomes not only possible but real.”
― Lucy H. Pearce, She of the Sea