With every drop of water you drink, every breath you take

Hear the voice of Sylvia Earle, the great explorer of the deep, who proclaimed: “With every drop of water you drink, every breath you take, you’re connected to the sea. No matter where on Earth you live. Most of the oxygen in the atmosphere is generated by the sea.” In these words she draws back the veil of forgetfulness that blinds humankind, reminding us that the ocean is not a distant expanse for sailors and fishermen alone, but the beating heart of all life. Every sip we take, every inhalation that sustains us, is bound to the restless tides and living waters of the sea.

The origin of this truth is not in myth, but in the very science of creation. The great oceans, covering most of the Earth, are the furnaces of life. Tiny phytoplankton, unseen by the naked eye, weave oxygen from sunlight and water, gifting it to the atmosphere for every creature to breathe. Rivers rise from the rains that the sea feeds into the sky, and those rivers give us the water we drink. Thus, even one who dwells far inland, among deserts or mountains, breathes and drinks because the sea is alive. This is the ancient covenant of nature, made long before men built kingdoms or machines.

Consider the story of the Polynesians, who navigated the vast Pacific by the stars and the swells. They did not see the sea as an enemy but as a mother, binding islands together across thousands of miles. They knew, as Sylvia Earle reminds us, that the sea connects all peoples. A canoe upon the ocean was not only a vessel—it was a symbol of mankind’s unity with the waters that give life. Their voyages testify to this truth: no matter where one lives, one is still of the sea.

History too has shown us the folly of forgetting this bond. When men poisoned rivers with industry and filled the oceans with waste, sickness returned to their own doors. Dead zones spread where life once flourished, and coral kingdoms collapsed. Nations learned through hardship that the sea cannot be treated as separate from the land, for the balance of the waters is the balance of our very breath. So too in the Dust Bowl of America, when drought ravaged the land, men realized that broken cycles of water meant broken lives. The lesson was written in hardship: all is connected, and the sea is the wellspring.

The meaning of Earle’s words is therefore both poetic and urgent. She calls us to reverence, to understand that the sea is not merely scenery, not merely a frontier to conquer, but the living partner of our survival. The next breath you take is the gift of plankton adrift on waves you may never see. The next glass of water you drink is rain born of the sea’s evaporation. To harm the oceans is to harm ourselves, and to protect them is to safeguard life itself.

The lesson for you, listener, is this: walk with humility, knowing that you are never apart from the sea, even if you have never stood upon a shore. With each breath, remember the hidden forests of plankton beneath the waves. With each drink, remember the clouds and rivers born of salt waters. In this remembrance, live not as conqueror of nature, but as child of it—dependent, grateful, and responsible.

Practical actions follow. Waste less, for every drop is sacred. Guard rivers and coasts, for they are the pathways of the sea. Support those who protect coral reefs and fight pollution, for their labor sustains your very lungs. Teach children to honor the waters, so that generations to come may breathe freely and drink abundantly. And when you see the sea, offer it reverence, for in its depths is the origin of your life.

So remember the prophetess of the oceans: “With every drop of water you drink, every breath you take, you’re connected to the sea.” Let it be carved upon your heart. For in knowing your bond with the waters, you will walk more wisely upon the Earth, and in guarding the sea, you guard your own existence.