Whispers of the Deep: A Journey into the Ocean’s Frequency

Written by one of the founders of Mystics Council – the team of Merlins for your Inner King Author as an invited guest blogger for the Oceans & Spirituality program (totheoceans.com).
Images by Leonardo AI.

https://mysticscouncil.com/

I. The Invitation

It all began with a sound. Not the kind of sound you hear in the usual sense—not the hum of a refrigerator, the chirping of birds at dawn, or the distant rumble of city life. This was different.

It was faint at first, a barely-there hum that seemed to wrap around the edges of my awareness, like a breeze brushing past my skin. But this sound came from inside me, and it wasn’t long before it grew impossible to ignore.

I had spent years meditating, following the standard practices of mindfulness. Breathing, counting, visualizing. This time was not like anything I’d experienced before. This sound, this… frequency, was calling me so strong. Not in words, but in a deep, almost primal way that felt like a whisper straight from the earth itself. Or more accurately, like the water does. The ocean sounds.

I couldn’t pinpoint the moment I realized it, but suddenly it clicked. This wasn’t just a sound. It was a beckoning. The ocean—its depth, its mystery, its ancient voice—was calling me. And it wanted me to listen.

II. The First Dive

I live a mere fifteen minutes from the ocean, a fact I had often taken for granted. Growing up near the coast, the beach had become part of the background scenery of my life—like an old painting hanging in the hallway.

Sure, it was beautiful, but when you see something every day, you stop truly seeing it. I didn’t go to the beach for swims anymore. I didn’t stand in awe of its vastness. I didn’t take in the salty air with any real sense of gratitude. Something had changed. That hum in my chest, that sound that started within me, was now pulling me toward the ocean.

It was early in the morning when I decided to follow my instinct feeling. I woke up before the sun, a rare occurrence, peacefully just a sense that, no other choice. I dressed quickly, pulled a light sweater over my shoulders, and grabbed a towel out of habit.

The morning air was cool, the sky still streaked with pre-dawn colors, when I reached the shore. The beach was empty, save for a few seagulls scavenging for remnants of yesterday’s picnics.

The rhythmic crash of waves provided the only soundtrack, a sound that should have been familiar but now felt… alive, as though I could feel the energy behind each pulse of water as it stretched and curled along the shore.

I didn’t hesitate. Shoes off, towel thrown to the side, I walked straight toward the water.

The first touch was electric. The coldness jolted me awake, but something deeper happened too. The moment my feet met the tide, that internal hum I’d been hearing—feeling—amplified. It was as though the ocean had finally made contact with me, like two magnets being drawn together.

I stepped deeper into the water, up to my knees, then my waist. I stood there, eyes closed, the world around me disappearing into nothing more than sensations: the soft tug of the current, the chill of the water, the faint rustle of wind in my hair. And then, I let myself go. I dipped under.

The silence beneath the water was deafening, but it was not empty. It was thick with sound, with something more profound than I could explain. It was as though the ocean was alive with whispers, a choir of voices that had been waiting for me to join them. I wasn’t underwater long—just long enough to feel it. Long enough to know I had found what I had been searching for, even if I couldn’t yet name it.

When I surfaced, the world felt sharper. I inhaled deeply, the air filling my lungs in a way it never had before. And then, the hum, the frequency, whatever it was, shifted. It wasn’t inside me anymore. It was coming from the water, from the waves, from the depths. The ocean was speaking to me, and for the first time, I was ready to listen.

III. The Pull

That day was the first of many. I began returning to the ocean daily, sometimes twice. It wasn’t just about meditation anymore—it was a connection, a need. I could feel the water calling me back, over and over again.

Every time I entered the ocean, I would submerge myself, feeling the frequency of it, the energy coursing through the water and into me. It was a sensation that grew stronger with each visit, and soon, the line between where I ended and the ocean began started to blur.

I remember one morning, after about a week of these “dives,” standing ankle-deep in the water. The sky was a deep, endless blue, the kind of blue that makes you feel small, insignificant in the grand scheme of things. I had the sudden urge to dive in, to swim out far beyond the shallows where I usually stayed. So, I did.

The further I swam, the more intense the pull became. I could feel the ocean’s energy vibrating through me, syncing with my breath, my heartbeat, as though we were becoming one.

It wasn’t until I was far from the shore, with nothing but water surrounding me, that I stopped and floated on my back. I closed my eyes, letting the gentle sway of the ocean cradle me. And then, it happened.

The hum inside me, the sound I had first noticed weeks ago, aligned perfectly with the ocean’s rhythm. It was like tuning a radio to the exact right frequency. The moment the alignment occurred, the world around me dissolved.

I was no longer floating in water. I was floating in sound. In energy. I could feel the pulse of the ocean—not just the waves but something deeper, something ancient and knowing.

And then, a voice—no, not a voice, but a presence—spoke.

“Welcome.”

IV. The Connection

It wasn’t a voice I heard, but rather a presence I felt. The words weren’t spoken aloud but arrived directly into my consciousness, bypassing the need for sound.

The ocean—this vast, endless body of water—was communicating with me. And yet, it wasn’t just the ocean. It was something beyond it, something that used the ocean as a medium.

“Who are you?” I asked, but not aloud. My thoughts, too, seemed to float in this ethereal space, untethered from the usual constraints of communication.

“We are the frequency of life. The pulse that moves through all things,” the presence replied. “The ocean is our vessel, but we are much more. We are the rhythm of existence.”

I could feel my heart rate quicken, my mind racing to comprehend what was happening. Was I hallucinating? Dreaming? But no—this was real. As real as the cold water that lapped against my skin.

“What do you want from me?” I asked.

The presence—or perhaps it was the ocean itself—responded with a sensation, a deep, vibrating warmth that filled me from the inside out. “We do not want. We offer. You have heard the call, and now you may learn to listen.”

“Listen to what?”

“To the frequency of all things. To the energy that flows through life itself. It is in the water, in the wind, in the earth, in the sun. It is in you.”

And just like that, the connection faded. The sound—the hum that had been with me for weeks—quieted, becoming a soft, distant whisper. I opened my eyes, still floating on my back, the vast sky above me unchanged. But everything inside me had shifted.

V. The Awakening

From that day forward, I meditated not just to calm my mind but to tune into that frequency—the pulse of life that the ocean had introduced me to. Every day, I returned to the water, seeking to deepen the connection, to learn more from the ocean’s frequency.

But it wasn’t just the ocean anymore. I began to notice the hum in other places too—beneath the rustle of trees in the forest, in the stillness of the night air, even in the steady beat of my own heart. It was everywhere, this pulse of life, this frequency that connected all things.

The more I listened, the more I understood. The ocean wasn’t just water. It was a gateway, a bridge to something greater. It held the memories of the earth, the rhythms of time, the secrets of life. Every wave that crashed upon the shore was part of a greater symphony, one that extended beyond the confines of the physical world. The ocean, in its vastness, was not just a body of water. It was alive with the energy of creation itself.

VI. The Message

Weeks passed, and with each day, the connection grew stronger. I began to feel a shift within me, as though I was no longer separate from the world around me. The boundary between where I ended and where the ocean—or the earth, or the air—began was fading. It was during one of my meditations, sitting on the beach at dusk, that the presence returned.

“Why have you called me?” I asked, feeling the familiar hum vibrate through me.

“You are ready”, the presence replied.

“For what?”

“To understand the true nature of the connection.”

I sat in silence, waiting, feeling the energy of the ocean pulse through me. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the water, and for a moment, everything felt suspended in time. And then, the message came, clear and direct.

“The frequency of life is not something to be understood intellectually. It is something to be felt, to be lived. You have been listening, but now you must become the frequency itself. Let it guide you. Let it show you the way. You are part of the ocean, part of the earth, part of the energy that flows through all things. When you truly understand this, you will find peace.”

I closed my eyes, letting the words sink in. It wasn’t about learning or achieving anything. It was about becoming. I had spent my life searching for meaning, for understanding, but now I realized that the search itself was the obstacle. The ocean had shown me that everything I needed was already within me, within the frequency of life that connected us all.

VII. The Becoming

From that moment on, everything changed. I no longer approached meditation as a practice but as a way of being. Every breath, every step, every thought became an opportunity to tune into the frequency of life. I no longer needed to go to the ocean to feel the connection—I could feel it everywhere.

I could feel the pulse of life in the wind as it swept through the trees. I could hear the hum of the earth beneath my feet as I walked. I could even sense the frequency in other people, in the way their energy interacted with the world around them. Everything was connected, and I was part of it.

The ocean had been my teacher, but now I understood that the lesson was much greater. The frequency of life flowed through all things, and by tuning into it, I could find peace, balance, and harmony in every moment.

VIII. The Return

One evening, months after that first dive, I returned to the ocean, not out of need but out of gratitude. The sun was setting, the sky a brilliant mix of oranges and pinks, and the waves were gentle, lapping against the shore like a lullaby. I waded into the water, feeling the familiar pull, the connection that had started it all.

But this time, I didn’t need to dive under. I stood there, waist-deep in the water, and closed my eyes. I could feel the frequency all around me, the hum of the ocean syncing with the beat of my heart. I was no longer separate from it. I was part of it.

And in that moment, I understood. The ocean, with all its vastness, had simply been a reflection of the greater truth—that we are all connected, all part of the same frequency, the same energy. The ocean had called me not to teach me something new, but to remind me of something I had always known deep inside.

I smiled, letting the water wash over me, feeling the energy of the ocean, the earth, and the universe flow through me. And for the first time in my life, I felt truly at peace.

For more information of the author: https://mysticscouncil.com/

Here is the short version of this story in an audio to meditate with:

A note from the project manager Sini Kunnas:

To the Oceans Project celebrates the profound unity between the visible and invisible connections we share with nature. Oceans and water cycles are at the heart of life itself. We invite viewers to explore a deeper relationship with the oceans, recognizing both the seen and unseen bonds that connect us to marine life.

Thank you for supporting our work in ocean advocacy and awareness by taking the time to read this. The project blog writers are invited experts of our time.