Sea Swimming

The sea has a way of holding us, offering comfort in its rhythm and peace in its vastness.

The sea saved me. After the surgeries, the radiation, the exhaustion that reached down to my bones, I found myself in the water where I didn’t have to fight or be strong. I just had to float, to breathe, to let go. The waves didn’t ask anything of me. They didn’t see the scars, the fear, or the weight of everything I’d lost. They just carried me.

There’s something about the salt, the cold, the endless rhythm of the tide, mother nature forcing you to strip everything back to what’s real. It reminded me that I wasn’t just surviving. I was still here. Still whole. Still me.

Now, I want to share that. If you’re grieving, if you’re lost, if you just need space to feel, come to the water. Let the sea hold you the way it held me.

Whether you seek quiet reflection or shared moments of support, the sea is here for you, and so are we.