The waters remember everything. They hold our stories, our tears, our transformations.

Two years ago, the waters of Nicaragua called us — five humans drawn to their embrace on that first morning of January. We came laughing, hearts light with joy, unknowing that we stood at the threshold of profound change. The sea appeared gentle, yet beneath her surface, ancient currents stirred with purpose.

As we waded deeper, she wrapped us in her power. What started as play became a dance with fate as the currents grew stronger, pulling us into her depths.

In that sacred moment between struggle and surrender, a truth emerged: we were being initiated.

Each wave that threatened to overwhelm us carried a teaching — that our true power lies not in fighting the current, but in flowing together as one.

In our moment of greatest vulnerability, we formed a perfect star in the waters — five points of human spirit united in trust.

The ocean showed us how the old patterns of fear dissolve when we remember our connection. We emerged not just survivors, but transformed, carrying the waters' wisdom in our cells.

The story could have ended there, another tale of ocean's might and human resilience. But the waters weren't finished with their teaching.

Two years later, in the stillness of January's first light, they called again. In the liminal hour before sunrise, my father's spirit whispered through the mist: "Remember the children."

The message pulled me to the shore, where nature herself had prepared a ceremony. Bees danced their ancient songs overhead, pink camellias offered their medicine, and passion fruit vines spiraled with life's deepest codes.

At the water's edge, my hands moved of their own accord, tracing sacred symbols in the sand — living light scrolls, first stone, first fire, first love.

The waters whispered that these weren't just marks in sand, but keys awakening slumbering memories of our original grace.

Then the waters unveiled their greatest gift. Walking along the shore came a family of pure light — father, mother, and a small daughter who carried wisdom in her eyes and a staff in her tiny hands.

Without word or prompting, she began writing her own symbols in the sand, her movements mirroring mine, her presence bridging worlds. The waters showed me: these children of light aren't just our future — they're our guides back to our own forgotten wisdom.

Later, a young boy appeared, sitting in profound stillness on a weathered bench. Staff in hand, he communed with the great mother ocean herself. The waters spoke clearly: these children carry codes of the new Earth in their very being. Through their pure presence, old stories of separation and fear dissolve like salt in the sea.

The waters want you to know: this isn't just my story. It's the story of our collective awakening.

In these times of great change, as the last vestiges of old cycles wash away, the children of light show us our path home. They lead us not through force or struggle, but through the wisdom of water — flowing, adapting, connecting, transforming.

You who feel the resonance of these words rippling through your heart — you are part of this grand remembering. Whether you're just feeling the first drops of awakening or swimming in the deep waters of your power, your presence in this transformation is essential. The children await with open hearts, and the waters embrace us all as we flow into this new dawn.

Let us move as water moves — with grace, with power, with trust in the current that carries us home.

In the flow of eternal love,

C xx

TA HI WA