Like most people, I have nothing important to write about these days. But like most writers, I won't let that stop me from clicking away at the keys.
There have been some rather heavy things on, but like normal when I compare my big list of problems they pale in comparison to that of others. While one of our biggest goals is to get back on a boat, a good friend of mine is fighting for his life.
I lack the eloquence to describe my last year. It's been a time of amazing adventures. Almost exactly one year ago I had crossed the Sea of Cortez for the third time, and made amazing new friends on the mainland of Mexico.
The biggest concern for us was whether we should go to New Zealand or Australia, and I think Charlotte and I even had an argument about it one classically hot and sticky tropical Mexico night.
I rode a horse (alone) around a tiny Mexican town dodging dogs and cars at night, I've peed into the great big ocean, and I've seen such magnificent beauty that I try not to think about it during the day because it drags me out of my needed focus and reminds me of where I want to get us back to.
Another thing to remember is that we had lived onboard for around 8 years at the point where we lost Rebel Heart. Charlotte and I both kicked around ideas of things we would do when back on land. Simply put, some things are much easier to accomplish when you aren't sailing around. We had planned on doing those things in ~5 years or so, hopefully after we reached the east coast of the United States.
So once the shock wore off, I realized for me that the time to feel bad was done and the time to seize the opportunity was here. It's corny as hell, but it's true.
Boatless might mean we can't go offshore sailing, but plenty of people with boats can't go offshore sailing into the sunset forever so it's not really just a boat thing. It's about your money, your lifestyle, your expectations, and how you structure yourself overall. If you live like a normal person you will continue to do so, and you'll die as such. If you want to break the mold, get a fucking hammer out and start smacking shit up today.
The biggest and scariest thing I learned from our two years at sea was that I really could do something I put my back into. It might not be easy, it will be harder than I imagine, I'll need help, and I'll want to quit along the way. But I have the ability to change my life and point it in the direction I want it to go.
And knowing that fact, knowing that I am indeed capable of making manifest that which is in my head, is a really powerful thing. The side effect is that if I do have the control, then there's no one to blame but myself if I don't get to where I want to go.
If I was writing a 10K and spelling out my yearly aspirations, I would put it like this:
- I hope I can see all of my friends again on a beach somewhere tropical. I want them happy and without fear or pain. Extra points if there are no mosquitoes.
- I hope my family continues to stay healthy and strong, and we can appreciate every day for just how special and fleeting they are. Raising two young children is really quite difficult but Charlotte and I will look back at these years with a special fondness, for the rest of our lives.
- I hope that I remember how powerful and significant every single day is, and try to fill those waking hours with work towards the future and appreciation for what we have at present.
To my friends, I'm sorry for being a shut-in and not really doing much of anything but working and parenting. Please know it's me over here, the same guy you know who would much rather be laying on a beach somewhere nursing a cocoloco than in the heart of American business. But money makes the world (and boats) go 'round, and you need to build a big ladder to climb out of the rat race and escape the laboratory.