When the Deep Calls Me Back to Myself
The blue whale called me. Her voice wasn’t loud. It was low, ancient, humming through bone and breath and belly. I felt her before I understood her. Something in me stopped and said, listen. Something in me recognized the way she swims with the whole ocean on her back and still moves with grace. I needed to see that.
I don’t know exactly what this prayer will become, but I know it starts here—in the soft, deep place where I feel everything.
Right now I’m navigating emotional pressure. My relationship is surfacing all kinds of feelings. Not because it’s bad, but because it’s showing me where I still hold pain, where I still silence myself, where I still tense up when I want to speak. That tension builds until I either freeze or erupt. But today, I don’t want to do either. I want to breathe. I want to name this moment, sit inside it, and feel what’s asking to be felt.
I am a deep thinker and a deep feeler. I live in the ocean of my inner world. Sometimes it’s still and crystalline. Sometimes it’s a tsunami of grief, of rage, of heat that I can’t quite hold in my hands. I know that expressing how I feel matters. I know that how I express it is sacred too.
There are moments when I want to shout, to growl, to let the dragon inside me speak her truth without fear. And there are other moments where I go small. I get quiet. I feel like a child again, unsure if speaking will make me unsafe, unsure if I’ll be punished for simply needing something.
Sometimes I try to be cute, clever, charming. Sometimes I laugh when I want to cry. Sometimes I use metaphors and riddles to talk around the thing because I’m scared of the directness. And then, there are the times I speak plainly. I drop into presence. I say what I feel with curiosity, not blame. I ask for reflection. I make space for both of us. Those are the moments I’m proudest of. Even if they’re messy. Even if I tremble through them.
This prayer is for all of that. For the trembling. For the fire. For the silence. For the holy mess of being human and in love and in process.
Spirit. Ancestors. Guides. Whale of the Deep. Hold me while I walk this path. Remind me I’m not broken for having emotions I don’t always know how to carry. Remind me that I’m allowed to feel without always having to fix it right away. Remind me that the way I move through this is valid—even if it doesn’t look polished or poised.
I am asking for emotional support. The kind that doesn’t require me to shrink or perform. The kind that says, you are safe here. I want more spaces like that. I want to build them inside me and around me.
When I feel safe, I soften. I breathe deeper. I feel more creative, more open, more connected. I don’t want to live in defense mode. I want to trust the space I’m in. I want to let love reach me, not just pass through me.
Please help me release the bitterness I didn’t mean to collect. The armor that once protected me but now keeps me from being touched. Help me let go of the habits that grew from fear. Help me find gentler ways to speak my truth without swallowing it first.
This moment is a mirror. I’m being shown where I still withhold love from myself. Where I still believe I need permission to be seen. I want to unravel that. I want to stand in my wholeness, even when it’s uncomfortable.
Blue Whale, show me how to carry my bigness with grace. Show me how to move slowly through emotional storms. Show me how to sing the truth even when no one else hears it but me.
I am safe. I am well. I am protected.
I trust this process. I trust myself. I trust the voice that called me here today.
Let this prayer ripple out in all directions. Let it open something in me that needed space. Let it return to me in ways I can feel—in breath, in tears, in rest, in clarity, in love.
Let this be enough for now.
The Magic of Blue Whale Energy in This Prayer
The blue whale is not just a symbol of depth—she is depth. Her energy carries the sacred codes of emotional endurance, ancestral memory, and slow, expansive presence. As the largest creature on Earth, she moves with purpose and grace, reminding us that true power doesn’t rush or seek attention. It simply is.
In this prayer, blue whale energy guides the rhythm and tone. Every line, every breath, echoes her teachings:
To slow down when emotions rise.
To listen beneath the noise.
To hold space for grief, rage, tenderness—all of it.
To speak only when the words come from truth, not reaction.
To honor the pauses as much as the release.
To remember that it’s okay to take up space with feeling.
She reminds me that I don’t have to force clarity. That I can wait until my voice is aligned with my heart. That even when I freeze or go quiet, I’m still in motion. That I am allowed to carry great emotion and not collapse under it.
In this prayer, the blue whale teaches me how to be vast.
How to feel and not flee.
How to stay with myself long enough to transform.
Her magic holds me as I remember how to hold myself.
Ase.