Ocean Therapy: Learning to Move with the Tides
I’m lucky to live by the ocean. I can walk to the cliffs, sit and journal in front of the horizon, wander down to the tide pools, or walk along the shore finding seashells and feeling my toes in the sand. When life feels like too much, the water reminds me how to come back to myself.
In therapeutic settings, this is often called blue space therapy or nature-based therapy—the use of water and natural environments to help calm the nervous system, reduce stress, and support emotional regulation. There’s good research behind this. My own version of ocean therapy isn’t clinical. It’s personal, creative, and experiential. It’s how I use the ocean to listen, to settle my body, and to let what’s inside begin to move—often through walking, journaling, and painting.
At its simplest, ocean therapy is a grounding practice. It’s about letting your senses lead instead of your thoughts: feeling your feet on the ground, noticing the rhythm of the waves, listening to sound, watching light move on water, and letting your breath slow.
Ocean therapy isn’t about escaping life. It’s about regulating the nervous system and remembering how to feel again. The rhythm of the waves slows my breath. The wide horizon gives my mind more space. My body softens before my thoughts do.
The ocean also feels like a mirror for our emotional lives.
Some days it’s calm and spacious. Some days it’s full of crashing waves. And sometimes, even when the surface looks peaceful, there are strong currents moving underneath. We’re the same way. Our inner world has tides too. The ocean reminds me that changing doesn’t mean something is wrong. It means something is alive.
My love of mermaids was born from this relationship with water, and I love painting them. Mermaids are a powerful and ancient myth—a teacher, a guide, and a symbol of the deep inner world. They are not just a cute fantasy figure. For me, the mermaid is a reminder that healing doesn’t happen by staying on the surface. We heal by descending, by listening, by feeling what’s actually there.
That’s also how my video Awaken in the Deep: The Mermaid Soul Journey came to be.
Awaken in the Deep, The Mermaid Soul Journey is an invocation and a gentle call back to ourselves. Using the ocean and the mermaid as symbols of the inner world, this piece invites us to stop drifting on the surface of life and listen more deeply within. It honors the courage to feel, to descend beneath appearances, and to meet ourselves honestly — through waves of joy and grief — reminding us that awakening is not an escape, but a return home.
This video was a joyful collaboration with my son, Michael Valko, who created the animation using my mermaid watercolor art and brought it to life through video. I wrote the lyrics and created the music using Suno. It was so much fun to create, I hope you enjoy it! You can watch Awaken in the Deep: The Mermaid Soul Journey on my ABOUT ME page.
So much of life trains us to stay composed and productive. But the body keeps a deeper story. It holds stress, grief, and unspoken emotion. And like the ocean, the body needs movement. Nothing is meant to stay stuck.
This is why ocean therapy and Intuition Painting® feel so connected in my work.
In my workshops, I watch people relax when they stop trying to make something good and start letting something true move. The brush becomes a tide. Color becomes emotion. The canvas becomes a place where the inner world can finally speak.
Sometimes I include sessions with the ocean in my workshops: a quiet walk along the cliffs, sitting and journaling with the waves, visiting the tide pools, or walking the shoreline collecting shells and letting our feet sink into the sand. The ocean becomes a teacher—reminding us how to listen. These moments aren’t about doing much. They’re about slowing down enough for the nervous system to settle and for whatever is inside to have space to shift.
Ocean therapy doesn’t have to be complicated. You don’t even have to live by the sea. Any water, or even the sound of it, can help. What matters is slowing down enough to let your body feel rhythm and space again.
For me, the ocean is both mirror and medicine. It reminds me that I don’t have to be the same every day to be whole. I can be calm. I can be stormy. I can be quiet. I can be deep and unseen. Like the ocean, I am allowed to change. The body is the portal. The ocean is the mirror. Creativity is the bridge. And healing, I’m learning, is not about rising above life—it’s about learning to move with the tides and come home to yourself.
From my soul journey to yours,
Maria
