Retrieving The Watch in the Deep Water
Dharma Talk // A Salima Nova Series
Usually shared before a yoga class, a dharma talk is a moment of reflection before movement. An inner light.
I was eight. We were out at sea, off the coast of Tangier. The sky was clear. The Mediterranean almost still. It was an ordinary summer day. A day like any other. My brother’s best friend jumped off a rock. He’d done it before. We all had. But this time, his watch came loose. It had belonged to his father. A father he had lost. And suddenly everything shifted. My chest tightened. The game stopped. I froze. No one needed to explain. I knew that watch couldn’t be replaced. It wasn’t just an object. It was a link. A memory. A piece of something that would never return. I remember exactly how it felt. Like the world cracked open.
Like a glacier breaking apart. I’ve seen it. At Perito Moreno, in Patagonia. The sound is deafening. A collapse, slow and massive. The kind of sound that says: nothing will ever be the same. And maybe, someday, the earth will burn too.
To lose something precious. To watch it sink. And to stay on the surface, unable to follow That’s what despair looks like. Then my brother dove in. He didn’t say a word. He just jumped into the dark water. I thought it was reckless. Hopeless. The sea was deep. The currents were strong. The watch was small. But he went anyway. And minutes later, he came back up. He had it in his hand.
Video by Alex Kydd - Corals, Australia
Since that day, that image comes back to me every time I lose contact with what moves me. Every time I can’t feel desire anymore. When everything flattens. When nothing echoes. It isn’t always dramatic. But it’s dull. It’s long. It feels like everything is sinking slowly, just out of reach. You think it’s over. That it’s too late. That the connection is gone for good. But sometimes all it takes is the dive. One absurd gesture. No guarantee. No plan. Just saying: I don’t know where it is, but I’m going in anyway. That’s the gesture that changes everything.
Not because it ensures success. But because it reconnects you. To courage. To loyalty. To that part of you that still believes what matters can be recovered. It’s not a technique. It’s not a strategy. It’s an inner stance. You dive. Not to prove anything. Not to produce. Just to say: I’m still here.
So if you’ve lost the taste for things. If your desire has sunk. If you’re afraid it’s all behind you Stay quiet. Step toward the edge. Breathe. And when you’re ready… dive. You may not know what you’ll find. But you’ll remember why you went looking. And that’s enough.
Stay Stellar,
Salima
"the gesture that changes everything" ❤️