In the silent hours before dawn, the ocean sways with the certainty of the moon, every wave a heartbeat in sync with an unseeable force. This is the essence of the initiation rite—step into the tide, transform with the flow.
Tides do not rush; they rise and fall, teaching the rhythm of patience. There lies wisdom in the quietude, where introspection reflects upon the vast expanse, surrendering to the pull of unseen currents.
With each rite, a shedding occurs—not of skin, but of the unseen layers encasing the soul, in a seeker's dance with the elements.
As the tides recede, they promise return, cyclic in their promise. So too with the rites— every ending is an initiation to the next journey, casting light upon the shadows of newfound wisdom.