Strangers In A Strange Sea

Andre Philippe Laisney
2 min readJan 8, 2023
Photo by Matt Hardy on Unsplash

Saltwater.

That’s where our bodies, those strange fish, came from. Our blood still has the same salinity as salt water. Most of the same minerals, too.

What do you think of when you think of the sea?

Do you think of sitting pensive and thoughtless by the edge of the sea? Do you think of the sun in the sky when you think of the sea? Do you think of the deep, dark, depths, when you think of the sea? Or of space? Of timelessness, or of the sea of consciousness? Do you think of the stuff that souls are made of? Do you think of shells; Do you think of belonging, and of not belonging? Do you think of good things when you think of the sea? Do you think of time, or of death, or of rotten fish smell, when you think of the sea?

Of what do you think, when you think of the sea?

One should not drink saltwater. The electrolytic charge is all wrong, as you know. It will dehydrate you to death. It will suck you back in, straight through your skin.

A man adrift at sea might drink saltwater, although he knows better. He may do so out of desperation. We may smoke cigarettes, drink whiskey, and chase wild, wild, women, upon a sailboat if we can, or by the seaside, or wherever, until the sun comes round and back up again.

We westerners don’t like the idea of karma.

We like to think that if we suffer then the world must be unfair.

On the surface it is true that we don’t have much control. the waves toss us around as we cling to a makeshift raft made of steamer trunks and the lightning seems to have a wicked mind of its own, but, deeper down, what is true is not the same as on the surface. But it is true, up here, that we may not understand things, and we may start off lost and then learn to make honest mistakes. It is a strange place, and it keeps moving. But we know that there are things that we do which drain us over time, or we should do by now. We may do addictive and harmful, though understandable, things.

Some things we do are like drinking saltwater. They may satisfy but they double the thirst. And so we get angry or we may feel sad. We may blame the sea.

I’m not saying that there is anything wrong with binging Netflix, chugging Copious-Cola, power munching Cheezy-Poofs, or waging war against reality.

I’m just saying that we are no more lost than we choose to be.

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