Water Wait

I've never been sailing. I imagine racing over the ocean with the strength of the wind behind my schooner [that's a fancy sailing ref for those who care] would be pretty amazing, though. You know how sometimes you feel driven to do something really important? Like some beautiful force has it's hand on the small of your back, willing you to keep sailing until you carry it out?

WAIT.

I'm realizing that maybe some of you don't. I know that for a decent chunk of my life I didn't. It happens. You may spill some mango chutney on your fresh new Sperry's on sailing Sunday, sending you into a tizzy so uncomfy that you fall right off your fancy boat, dickey and all, into the heavy current of the ocean waves.

If you know how to swim, which I do [slowly and as awkwardly as you can imagine], it's not impossible to breast stoke your way to shore again. Or at least to some other sailor's boat for a bit, if that's what you need. I don't know the sailing term for bestest pal, so I'll simply call it "Meg*". That Meg might throw you a towel and giggle with you at pictures of half-naked hipster dudes until you're ready to get dropped off at your own boat again. 

*The name Heather may also apply here. 

When you do finally arrive in a safe place, though... when you are happy with how far you've been able to travel without swim-puking, the feeling is wondrous.

Kiiiinda like this.


There have been few moments in my life that felt as wonderful, but I treasure them and constantly hope for more. The greatest part is that I hadn't even believed I would get to this place. The last three years have been the biggest test I could have had. It didn't take much--just my voice. 

Now that I'm approaching top sailing speed, I don't resent that part of my life at all. I must admit though, that I am just a little nervous. Hence the lingering swim-pukes.

My poor boat shoes.