10.03.2020

For years I dreamed about whales, landlocked in an open door prison I didn't know how to escape from. I would run swept along the ocean floor by their currents. Float and roll in the deepest peaceful blue, see and hear the gentle giants about me. Whale song was strangely familiar and something in me clicked in tandem. My head did not yet recognise the sonic stretches that soundtracked those dreams. Conversation to and from a deeper place.

As I got my head above water in snatches, oxygen flooding wet lungs turning the terror in my belly to fire, my dreams found me on sailboats rushing through the sea. Flying forwards through the spray on the transom as a huge blue whale breached the surface. His giant eye met all the broken bones of a life stolen from under me. I saw another world within it as he swam looming alongside me. I woke wondering how to get there.

And then they appeared in real life. Orcas blessing me with a rare glimpse off the coast as the nightmare I couldn't wake up from breached and broke my surface glass. They sung the secret of my escape and I followed their lines. Humpbacks accompanying long walks on storming Winter beaches as the dam finally broke and its impact sucked me under. Southern Rights carrying me through the waves. Constant and gentle, pulling me off the rocks and back in sight of the lighthouse. Once perilous, now safe. The salty air kissing my wet face in welcome.

A whale bone sits by my bed. The ocean murmurs under the full moon that peers through my window. The tides rise and fall. My pup curls by my feet. I sleep and dream still of whales guiding me to new oceans and unchartered shores. Their song a lullaby, their majesty a meditation.

Soon they begin their journey north to pass by me again, blessing my mornings with their rainbow spouts. Light catching in the dark. I feel them coming. I listen to their sweet ancient songs and feel them in my blood. They carry me home.

There are people in this world who can wear whale masks and people who cannot, and the wise know to which group they belong.

~ Tom Robbins, Jitterbug Perfume

Words c. Kerrie Basha 2020