It’s boating season and on some of our lengthy sailing passages, my mind begins to wander and ponder. (I apologize in advance for all the parallels I’m about to use in this piece – sailing vs. life.) We were once power boaters, getting to our destination with speed and efficiency. When we switched to sailing, our power boating friends were shocked and horrified. You’d think we had changed religions, ok, not so much religions, but philosophies. With power boaters, it’s all about the destination. It has to be. You can do nothing, not even carry on a normal conversation until you get where you’re going. When we made the switch, and it suddenly took us an entire day to travel what had previously taken a fraction of the time, we embraced the sailors’ code – It’s not the destination, but the journey that counts. Ah, how many times did we repeat those words to each other that first year, with gritted teeth?
This expression came to mind as my husband and I neared the end of a long day’s journey, recently.
‘Exhilarating,’ said the captain.
‘Nerve racking,’ said his first mate.
Perspective is everything, in sailing and in life. I don’t mind a bit of wind, but could I have calm seas, please, and lots of sunshine? No, sorry…rarely the case. So our crossing from Thornbury to Hope Island gave us tiny patches of blue sky and brief glimpses of sun, with longer stretches of dark, angry looking clouds and one metre seas. It was the first good sail my husband had had all summer and he enjoyed it immensely. I on the other hand, prone to motion sickness and an aversion to too much heeling in the wind – did not have as much fun. Once through the gap at Christian Island, and motoring into the wind toward Hope, the seas calmed down, my nerves calmed down and I thought about destination and journey again. I couldn’t help but compare the expression to life and not just life, but to our spiritual journey. How we approach life, how we live our faith, will ultimately decide our destination. And so, in my opinion, the journey and the destination are of equal importance.
My husband’s approach – to life and faith – is a constant reminder to me that I lack trust – in his sailing abilities…perhaps, but also in God’s plan for me. Our sailing adventures – an equal measure of anxiety over wind, waves and weather, and tranquil anchorages with lots of time for reading and reflection, help me to put things in perspective…put my life, my spiritual life in order.
When I look at my husband’s take on things, and then my own, I can’t help but see that I’m too cautious, afraid to take chances. Does that spill over into my spiritual life? Yes, I believe that it does…afraid to give, afraid to love, afraid to trust in God’s plan and follow it.
The good new is, it’s never too late to change direction, when we find ourselves drifting off the course God has set for us – sometimes it takes a life time. But, as long as we continue learning, seeking and growing, our journey will be fruitful…and the destination blessed.
