Sailor Stories

Recently I told someone that had I not left a situation, I would not have been able to gain perspective—a perspective that allowed me to return to it with a different mindset. Details that make it doable now couldn't have happened had I not had a break. 

Then I thought about the sailboat idea right now swirling in my head. The thought popped up that you cannot tell sailor stories unless you've been out to sea. The bartenders and people at the ports get to hear the stories, but they don't have the experiences. We can fake it for a while, but at some point we’re going to have to prove that we’re a sailor. Otherwise, we just become actors telling stories in character (hypocrites) rather than authentic people living real life at the edge of adventure.

I’ve been too content in the last few years to watch the sea from the port side restaurant. The food is good, the fire is warm, and occasionally I hear a great story. Sometimes The Captain asks me to go out with him. Sometimes I do, but too often fear has kept me by the fire.

I don't want to ever be afraid of the open sea. That’s where the adventure lies. That’s where the danger lies, which in some measure depends on who’s running the ship. The open sea is where the fish are. The open sea is where sometimes we get asked to step out and walk on water. It’s the place where discipline and discovery clap their hands. Sure, like Peter, I might sink when I see the wind and the waves of the world around me. But then I’ll have the story. It won’t be one from the port. It’s my story. My sailor story.