You won’t find it on any one beach or mountain top. It flows through every river but can’t be found in any. it’s not about boats or sailing, tiny homes, travel or simple living. It can’t be bought sold or negotiated. It’s everywhere and in anything and while it exists in every inch, ounce and cubic foot of this big beautiful world, it is by far the most elusive of all desires. If you posses it you already know what it is. If you don’t you very well may never taste this eternal nectar.
“Your living the dream” I hear it countless times in any day. My little yacht is on display in the center of the marina. Late nights, early mornings and the slowness only island time can know. My Mooring lines are fast with no plans to untie them. That little umbilical chord that charges my batteries and cranks out warmth in the chilly evenings is starting to grow cobb webs as is my engine. Spring and fall bring the best of our seasons here for cruising. Summers are meant for slow lazy days exploring ashore.
Our options are overwhelming. I’ve made all the lists with a yes, no, maybe so. In the end ive thrown all plans out the window. What ever happens will show us the way soon enough. For now it’s work hard and play hard. Save most of my pennies but spend enough to make it all right. My morning lattes are a subtle reminder that I’m still part of the one percent. A glass of wine at sunset, meals made from scratch and always enough time to derail from it all for a nap on some secluded beach far from the noise and crowds.
My hair is turning blond, long, wild and locked in tight curles. Skin tanned and softened by the lazy summer breeze and my feet, bare and always coated in salt from the cool waters of the shallow bay I call my home. The ring of my bell as I pedal past yachters coming and going. My watch twinkles and shines in the hot afternoon sun, I like shiny shit and that little hunk of Swiss steel is all part of my uniform. My non existent name tag reads Dock Master and that’s what I am today.
This place was simple to find and easy to make my home. All I did was cut the dock lines and sail away with out anything but a half finished boat and a pile of lentils. That’s the thing about security, it’s far greater than any anchor for keeping one held fast in that little holding pattern we call life. Always working towards some imaginary place where all our dreams will manifest before our eyes.
They say that life is what happens while we are making plans. To know this freedom is as simple as to take it. Today is my four year anniversary with the day I cut my lines. She is exactly 26 miles from the place we left behind but it feels like more than a million. Thousands of miles have passed under her keel since then but we always end up back in this little utopia just a hop skip and a jump, exactly one world away from where it all began. Happy anniversary Sookie…