Well,
folks, I can sail. Yes I can.
I raised
my own mainsail and my own working jib and, as forecasted, headed out for my
very first sail on my own sailboat June 16th.
It was a
defining moment in my life.
Granted I did have a consummate sailor friend on board who
ensured my success by being there with good advice, but it was I, I Captain,
who sailed the vessel.
The
evening weather was perfect and the wind on Sand Bay allowed “Scout” to get in
the groove and heel over. She cruised with a palpable energy—freed after nearly
two years of landlocked stillness.
Under
that dome of the present moment out on the lake there was nothing in my mind
except my focus on keeping a trim sail and a steady course—with the orchestra
music of the humming keel whizzing along under water.
A most
humble “thank you” is due to the road so far—whose every winding and sometimes
grinding bump, heartache, and heavy load got me to that incredibly happy “first
ever” moment on the lake. I could
hear Maya Angelou saying, “Wouldn’t take nothing for my journey now.”
After my
partner, Jon Fistler, committed suicide in 2012 I came upon a bracelet at a
local market that had beautiful jade beads and the words “For the Journey”
stamped on a tiny piece of silver that hung from the black cording. I wore it a
lot in those months following his death, as a rite of passage I suppose, for
all the unknowns I knew would come my way. After a long while I took it off and
put it away.
I put it
back on in January, to help me once again, and vowed then to leave it on until
I wore it out and it fell off. I believed that when it left my body, it would
be a sign that I had reached an important crossroads in my life.
No word
of a lie, the bracelet let go at noon on June 16th, about five hours
before I sailed my boat.
No date
in history could have been more significant for that bracelet falling to the
floor, given how I’ve struggled with my apprehension of taking the big leap—the
one that meant the most—the one I wanted—the one I feared.
Truth be
told I think I have been on a long road since that cold and traumatic January
day in 2012 and Jon’s suicide. That was the day something inside me shifted out
of place and ever since I’ve been on a personal journey to learn the lesson of
letting go of what I cannot control, and to letting go of my fear of the
unknown.
That day
came on June 16th.
"As I sail through change
My resolve remains the same
What I chose are magic moments
Because ships are safe in the harbor
But that's not what ships are made for."
I know
for sure I’m not done with my changes, and thank heaven I’m not.
But this
“Little Miss” just sailed through something very, very big.
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