Many devotees of Manannan describe how they’ve always had a longing for the sea, a love of the beach–a love of surfing, swimming, building sand castles.
I hate the ocean.
And I say this as an ecologist–I hate the ocean. It’s deep, dark, scary. It’s home to all sorts of terrifying bacteria, the kind that burrow into you and don’t let go.
Not to mention fish.
I hate fish. I’m terrified of them. Something about them is so fundamentally disgusting to me, it’s probably my biggest fear. I can’t go in water that has fish in it. On bad days, I have trouble getting in a bath because I’m terrified a fish will somehow have made the journey from the ocean to my tub and wiggled it’s way through my pipes. On good days, I am nauseated by the thought of them.
So, you can imagine my confusion when I began feeling a longing for the sea. For open water and sunshine and the embrace of depths. For sand and warmth and waves. It began some weeks ago; it tugs at me every time I look at a picture of the sea.
I am a mountains person, very firmly. I adore the breathless feeling of living up there, the snow and evergreens and unique ecosystem. My decision to become an ecologist was based in my residing close to the Rocky Mountains.
But the sea has been calling to me. If only I could have both, ten minutes down the street either direction.
I think Manannan has been wanting my attention. I have been favoring Brighid over Him for some time, and He always favors Himself a Father of mine, ever since my father died.