Whether I am accompanying my husband on our jet boat, or it’s just me on my stand-up-paddle board (that I sit on), I am a water enthusiast.
I wouldn’t say I am a great sailor, but I enjoy being on the river, sound, bay or ocean.
I certainly am not a professional, but neither am I a novice; my admiration for the aqua-colored depths spans forty years.
Similar to the tales of fishermen, I have some good stories to share.
I tried windsurfing for a summer, but quickly realized it was too tricky for me.
Flowing with the current, I could easily go downwind, but returning my board to shore (and going up wind) was difficult.
I admit, much to my chagrin, the marine police had to rescue me more than once.
Some of my favorite memories involve my sixteen-foot daysailer.
I recall loving the noise of the sails as they flapped, swinging from side to side when I began my tack (i.e. turning the bow through the wind).
I took great pleasure in steering the boat.
Grasping the tiller in my hand with mastery, I relished feeling the power of the wind reverberate in my hand.
With great satisfaction, I remember feeling confident as I balanced the helm, controlling the navigation.
Whatever the wind direction, as I felt that breeze blow by, all other noise ceased.
It’s as if all motion stopped – the world appeared to be at rest.
In my sixty-eight years, I have found that sailing can be a metaphor for life: some situations have been absolutely stupendous, while others have been not-so-good, mediocre at best.
If you’ve liked this description of sailing, please follow me for more musings as I ponder how life has been (and continues to be) a spiritual voyage.
Spiritual Voyages 