I disappeared. I went underground, unplugged, out to sea. I was invited by JC to move a sail boat across a large body of water. The journey took five days, during which time there was no access to internet or phones. It was glorious. It re-calibrated my brain. I intend to write about it in-depth later on. Other than performing assigned tasks on-board (making coffee, cleaning up the galley, keeping watch on deck…) I spent a majority of my time reading and writing. Since every inch of available real estate on a boat is accounted for—serves a purpose—it is a resourceful act trying to find a spot to sit and read or write and not be in the way. This task alone—seeking out a private nook—was one of my more enjoyable things to do. If the wind was favorable and the sea water taking a break from splashing over the bow, a dry spot could be found on either the port or starboard side of the bow in the shade of the Genoa sail. There I could nest for glorious hours in a reading and writing cocoon.
Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life? - Mary Oliver, The Summer Day
But now that I my feet are back on dry land, the undefinable uncertainty returns: Now what? Where will you go? What will you do? For work? For craft? For life? To these questions and many more, I still have no answers.