The Sea Has No Enemies
Join me as we explore Kayá’s lessons in this text, presented as an analogy between the power of the sea and our ability to choose the battles that deserve our attention.
“Only God understands the algorithm that governs the distribution of posts on social media.” That’s what I thought when I first received a post from @nkisimikaia, a young woman who reads the Gypsy deck and speaks about the deities of Candomblé. Her message was filled with analogies and images so beautiful that it shattered all my preconceptions. Since then, I’ve been following other people who also talk about the deities of Candomblé and Umbanda—these two quintessentially Brazilian religions—whose messages mainly offer advice on human relationships and self-esteem.
The first message I received deserves a little more of your attention—believe me. In it, Sthéfanny—a cinnamon-colored brunette, dressed entirely in white and wearing a turban with panache—spoke with great attitude in the backyard of her home, amid the songs of birds and the clucking of the chicken coop. The scene was simple and captivating, and it immediately captured my attention. I, who had always been shy and had to ask permission to exist, was struck down by the green lightning bolt of envy from this woman brimming with audacity. So young and yet so full of wisdom!
She spoke of Kayá, the powerful female deity of the seas in the spiritual tradition of Candomblé, who corresponds to Iemanjá in Umbanda. She mentioned that no one fights with the sea, for the sea recognizes no enemies equal to itself. No one is great enough to provoke it. You cannot challenge the sea to a duel, insult it from the beach, or throw a stone at it—it will continue its ebb and flow along the shoreline, the waves will continue to break on the surf, and the tides will relentlessly follow their lunar cycle, indifferent to the insolence of those who attack it.
Sthéfanny said that true strength does not need to be in a permanent state of combat. The more insecure a person is, the more easily they interpret small gestures as threats and feel the need to respond. But those who truly know their own strength can choose their battles. There are stones that demand our reaction; others merely leave concentric circles on the calm surface of the water before sinking.
The wisdom lies in distinguishing which stones threaten us. There are moments when remaining silent means allowing them to encroach upon our shores. We must then stand up, defend our territory, set boundaries, and say “No!” At other times, the provocation doesn’t require a response, for responding would mean granting the aggressor an importance they don’t possess. We can simply swallow the stone. Not out of resignation, nor out of fear, nor out of cowardice. The sea simply swallows the stone because it is bigger than the stone. The sea does not need to prove that it is the sea.
Have a great week!