I couldn’t take my eyes off of the crystal clear water. The way it glistened back at me, in some ways, I felt seen. I felt understood. The sunlight bounced off the white foamed waves and warmed my soul. It reflected pieces of me that have been burned like wood and ember. Wounded by words and weapons aiming to crush and destroy. But they haven’t.

The Mexican water seemed to understand the depth of my pain. Like it did see me, like it was saying, “me too” with each sway and crash onto the coarse rock below. The resilience of the emerald movements moved my heart in hope.