The Modern Day Noah’s Ark

Originally published on December 8th, 2023 on medium.com/@shamandao, drafted in 2021.

Illustration by Barbara Kelley

In 2020, there was a powerful poem that went viral.

“We are in the same storm, but not in the same boat.
Your ship can be shipwrecked and mine might not be.”

A quick google search would come up with the author either as anonymous or to writer Damien Barr. Either way, it accurately described the shit storm the entire world was in.

I recently had an intuitive download of insight about Noah’s Ark. You know the one where God chose Noah and his family to save the human race by foretelling him to build an ark before the great flood.

Noah was instructed to build an ark, and by God’s instructions, he took into the ark male and female specimens of all the world’s species of animals, from which the stocks might be replenished.

I thought about our modern-day arks. In this massive invisible ocean of emotional turmoil, people are hanging onto driftwood, sailing on boats, and cruising on yachts as we all wade through the treacherous emotional waves of uncertainty. Many people have drowned and many more will continue as their trauma stacks soak up the heaviness of all that is happening around them.

One of the best pieces of advice was given to me by a police officer in Amalfi, Italy when he taught me the basics of swimming. This was in the summertime of 2017 at the Amalfi coast. “Shut your mouth,” he said. By that, I mean, I had to breathe through my nose and close my mouth to not swallow the Tyrrhenian seawater.

I laughed and smiled because I thought he was joking. He lifted me from underneath the ocean surface choking for air. After I practiced not smiling and shutting my mouth, he promised me he’d be behind me as we swam out further into the open water to the communal floating thing.

My heart raced and I was afraid. Here was this kind man, who I met through mutual friends, who were living la Vida Loca up at the day club on the cliff ten feet from us. He was a seasoned professional, trained with the police academy and most likely other Italian departments, who I knew wouldn’t let me drown, but still… I hesitated.

My friends ten feet from us wouldn’t let me drown also, I thought to myself. They were all seasoned professionals in some type of Italian governmental department. I’m super safe.

I reasoned with myself and in the end, I went with my gut instinct and began swimming towards the communal floating thing in the middle of the Tyrrhenian choppy waters with “Ben,” right behind me. I can’t tell you the number of times I looked back at him with desperation in my eyes the moment my closed mouth dipped below the sea’s surface.

Or when I tried grabbing onto him, mamma mia. He would quickly float out of my arm’s reach to give me a reassuring nod. Nothing was reassuring at that moment.

Yet, I had to trust him in one of the most terrifying moments in my life. This wasn’t an enclosed swimming pool but the savage open waters in Southern Italy. I went from skipping the steps of learning how to crawl to embracing a wall to begin running.

I’ve floated in the deep end of pools before while hovering next to the edges. But given the environmental and circumstantial changes, floating next to the sea’s edge wasn’t exactly on the schedule that day.

It’s been years since I revisited this memory. At that moment, it was scary but as I reflect, I can only smile in this semi-packed coffee shop as I write this. My goodness, Ben, was such a blessing in my life during that summer day in Amalfi.

“You can smile now,” Ben said as we reached the communal float smack dab in the middle of the ocean. The laugh I mustered up was one of relief and joy.

It was then I was able to take a look around at the scenery. Hordes of sun-kissed Italians in red, pink, black, blue, and neon-colored bathing suits laughing, canoodling, talking, and enjoying their day as the ocean’s surface mirrored glass reflections from the sun.

I’m pretty sure this scenario wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t Ben I was with. I trusted him. Because I trusted him, I listened to him. I put aside my fear, ego, and vulnerability and listened to his instructions on what to do.

Because of that, we made it to the middle of the relentless sea and back in one piece. Where the music thumped as we watched the manager of the day club chop up watermelon and feed it to the patrons. We danced the day away holding slices of watermelons and enjoying every single second of summer.

This is where I tell you to begin the process of releasing the excess emotional trauma stacks within your emotional body. I know it hurts and you don’t want to go back there. If you do not release the excess energy weight, it will soak up the chaotic energy surrounding our Earth plane to weigh you down.

Shut your mouth, put your head down and get to work. This isn’t about saving everyone. This is about strengthening yourself to build your emotional and energetic ark to make it through the invisible energetic waves being slammed down upon us.

Take care of all things in the physical plane from your body, jobs, family, etc but one must not forget the hidden worlds where our energetic layers reside.

Being activated by a trigger is the first beautiful warning to begin emotionally reflecting and processing to release the excess energetic and emotional weight.

We are headed into times where being triggered is child’s play. These are times of upheaval.