Exploring the Depths with the Whales
I pull over near the cliff edge on a quiet stretch of road, drawn by the flash of a whale’s tail in the bay—a quick tease before it vanishes into the blue. These colossal Southern Right mamas travel thousands of miles through stormy seas just to give birth in our quiet waters here in Hermanus. Exhausted by a challenging week, I am grateful for the interruption and decide to stay a while. Before me, the sea ebbs and flows, whispering playfully to the mountain at my back. I’m struck by the contrast: how restless these waters are compared to the ancient steadfastness of the peak behind me, its roots anchored deep within the earth. Yet my eyes are drawn back to the water. I stare so intently into the swell that I expect the sea to split open and reveal every secret it’s been keeping.
And then, there she is—a nursing mama proudly presenting her newborn calf.
Had I the courage, I’d throw off my clothes, leap from the cliff edge, and plunge into the cold deep after them—hungry for one more glimpse, one brief touch of sleek skin. How can something so colossal move with such elusive grace? How can a force so commanding feel so profoundly gentle? I crave the quiet wisdom nurtured in those depths—the thought of stepping into that world both thrills and terrifies me. It’s no wonder we strap air to our backs and press glass to our faces—desperate to borrow just a few minutes in this intriguing place.
Most mornings, we wake up and look through familiar eyes at a familiar world, rarely stopping to think about the vast, unseen depths animating our daily lives. What frightens us about this inner landscape is its utter unpredictability: Will I be able to breathe here? Or will I be swept away by a flood of chaotic thoughts, unresolved memories, and unanswered questions? It can feel volatile, unrefined, even dangerous.
And yet, something keeps calling us to make friends with the mystery down below. Because deep down, we suspect that the face staring back at us from those waters is actually our own.
Exploring our inner world is a lot like learning to swim for the first time. At first, you kick and splutter, convinced that the second your head goes under, you’ll drown. But the harder you fight the water, the heavier you sink. It’s only when exhaustion forces you to stop fighting that you finally feel the water beneath you. You notice how light you’ve become—as if something in the deep was holding you up all along.
There is unimaginable beauty hidden in the depths of our being—a pure, undefiled wisdom and a raw, unfiltered way of experiencing life. It is a playground of quiet possibility. Perhaps the best way to touch this wisdom isn’t by forcing our way in, but by simply letting go—releasing our grip on certainty and learning to rest in trust. Trusting that, even in the depths of our being, we are held.
“He is before all things, and in him all things hold together.”
— Colossians 1:17
Can you feel the gentle whisper of the Spirit drawing you? Not only as the call of beauty, but the quiet assurance that we are never alone when we venture, even into our darkest places. The more we make peace with our inner depths, the more we can bring that richness back up to the surface and embody it in our everyday lives.
Looking out over the water one last time, the thought of visiting my gentle friends in their dark, wild home sends a quick ripple of fear through my body. But in a flash, I snap back—grounded once again by the solid, unyielding mountain behind me. It reminds me that I don’t have to choose between the two. I live right here in the middle: between mystery and knowability, the finite and the infinite, the temporal and the eternal. All of it held together in the One who enfolds us all.
Who am I
Beneath this frame?
A hidden world
So hard to name
It is not far
I need to travel
For this riddle
To unravel
Just diving in
And letting go
I greet the
“I”, I’ve yet to know
I still the noise and wait…
My mind at rest
but heart awake
A silent call
Through playful lips,
Through my indifference
Gently rips
I find You in the space between
What is known
And things unseen.
Your breath
The whisper of possibility
Flirting with flames
Of longing in me
Like water dancing
Upon its wave
This wild abyss
Will not behave
Oh untamed river
of latent meaning
What will be
Desire’s leaning?
Imagination caressing
Depths unspoken,
Words are clothed
The silence broken.
