Witnessing Without Taking

Ras Al Jinz

In 2008, I witnessed one of the most sacred experiences of my life in Ras Al Jinz Turtle Reserve, Oman.
Established in 1996 by Royal Decree, the reserve had only just begun welcoming a small number of visitors when I arrived. Its purpose was clear and uncompromising: to protect the turtles’ nesting cycle while allowing humans, carefully, reverently, to witness life entering itself.
At that time, the protocols and systems were still forming. A few of us were allowed to stand quietly on the beach at night and watch one of the Divine work happen: eggs cracking open, tiny bodies emerging, instinct pulling them toward the sea, a few destined to return years later to lay eggs of their own.
A humbling experience.

Life, Moving Through

After a full day’s drive from Dubai, with pauses to walk through Oman’s wild beauty, wadis (dry riverbeds that fill during seasonal rains, carving lush pockets through desert land), I arrived at the reserve.
The land was raw and calming. One of those places where time softens and the soul remembers how to listen.
After sunset, a small group of us was guided to the beach. I stood contemplating countless shining stars above me, when I felt movement at my feet. Tiny, dark shells broke through the sand and hundreds of mini turtles began to crawl toward the sea. Above me, gems shining but what seemed still and below me, dark gems, alive and determined. 

Back then we all had our flash lights on, chasing the 'tiny newly come to this world' beings and walking as we pleased on the beach while filming the experience. Unfortunately or rather fortunately, what was possible then is no longer allowed now. 

The Return: a New Attitude

Fast forward to today, nineteen years later, I returned to the same spot.
I took the same road from Dubai into Oman, this time stopping to camp in the mountains.

Note: Thankfully, my customized tent installed by The Jeepers team above my Jeep's roof, makes it so convenient to stop and enjoy the present moments in these special locations.

The land felt unchanged in its essence, raw, spacious and slow. Oman still holds a rare simplicity. Its people are welcoming, grounded and unhurried. Wherever you turn, there is a place to experience stillness.
(You’ll find my recommended spots at the end of this journal.)

The New Reality

'Feeling life move through me without being mine.'

Not everything remains the same, and yet, everything invites presence.
When I learned of the stricter regulations now in place, my disappointment surfaced above all my better self. A familiar human greed: Why can't it be like before? How unfair is this!'

I sat with that feeling: what part of me needs this? The answer was clear of course: the part that wants to capture magic, but a magic that does not owe me anything, and that is not mine. The kind to be witnessed silently, and not taken.
I softened and let way for respect and boundaries, shedding entitlement.

At Sunrise

Before dawn, I returned to the beach, not to expect, but to receive whatever was offered.
From a distance, in stillness, I watched a large mother turtle emerge from the sand and make her way to the sea. Moments later, a single newborn turtle surfaced, fresh from its shell, following the same ancient call.

No intervention.
No interference.
Just life, uninterrupted.

As others moved closer, cameras ready, I stayed where I was, quiet, ego-less, grateful. I let the scene unfold without needing to own it.
When the tiny turtle disappeared into the water, I turned toward the rising sun. Waves moved gently. Small crabs danced at the shoreline.
And I sat there, in silence, remembering:

'To witness is enough.'

With love and light,
- Danielle, The High Healer

Wadi locations:

 They are just too many to recommend, but here are key ones:

Wadi Bani Khalid

📍 Google Maps:  https://maps.google.com/?q=Wadi+Bani+Khalid,+Oman  

Wadi Ash Shab

📍 Google Maps: https://maps.google.com/?q=Wadi+Ash+Shab,+Oman  

Wadi Mibam

📍 Google Maps: https://maps.google.com/?q=Wadi+Mibam,+Oman