Mini Shark Tooth Treasure Vial Necklace

Shark Teeth & Second Chances

My dear wave-walker, allow me to confess something:

I am terribly, gloriously clumsy with my teeth.

A shark like me will shed tens of thousands of teeth in a lifetime. I lose them on turtleshell, on driftwood, on the odd ill-mannered anchor chain. One moment my smile is a perfect hunter’s grin, the next—plink—a tooth sails off into the dark.

And do the currents stop?

Does the ocean file a complaint?

Do I retire my monocle and take up knitting?

No.

The jaw simply… grows another tooth.

Down in the gumline, a new tooth has been waiting its turn like a quiet understudy backstage. When the front tooth falls, the next one slides forward. No shame. No drama. Just the body saying, “Try again.”

Some of those teeth sink into the sand, get tucked under silt, and spend ages turning to stone. They wait through storms, ice ages, shipwrecks, and long, bored crabs.

Then one day, a human who’s had a very hard year walks the shoreline.

They feel like they’ve messed up too much. Said the wrong thing. Chosen the wrong path. Broken something that can’t be unbroken.

The tide nudges a little triangle of stone right to their toes. They pick it up: a fossil shark tooth, dark and strong, shaped by a life of biting and a million years of waiting.

That, my friend, is not just a souvenir.

That is a Second Chance Charm.

When you carry a shark tooth, here’s the secret agreement you’re making with yourself:

When you mess up, you will not call it the end.

When something breaks, you will look for what can grow in its place.

When an old version of you “falls out,” you will let a braver version slide forward.

Anytime you feel that old knot of fear in your chest, take the tooth between your fingers and breathe with the tide:

In: slow wave rolling up the sand.

Out: slow wave pouring back to sea.

Then whisper, whether out loud or in your head:

“I’m allowed another try.”

That’s it. No lightning bolt. No magic spell. Just a quiet promise, backed by a creature who has been practicing second chances for over 400 million years.

From where I’m swimming, that’s real power.

— Arthur, your monocled mentor of the deep