Okay, I said that I would try to keep blogging in some way or another but more than a whole year has passed since I last wrote anything. So, clearly, I’ve had some other priorities. Much has changed in the past year. And perhaps I should write an entry or two chronicling it all. But that’s not this entry.
I’m writing this entry because I wrote an article back in April for a publication that never came together. (And yes, that’s my fault too.) Anyhoo, I like what I wrote and wanted to see it somewhere, so, now it’s here. If I can, I will backdate this entry to April.
All Shall Be Revealed – April 2021
It doesn’t seem to matter whether the sail is multiple days or just a single day’s journey. At the outset, when reviewing the sail plan, you gave the crew an estimate of what was expected. Maybe you steeled them to expect a few days of cool winds and quartering waves. Maybe you told them to expect a relaxing starry night in the cockpit, or a long day of intense sun, or both.
Regardless, bodies have internal clocks. And, when sailing, those clocks tend to start ringing a bit prematurely. As the shapes of the shore are starting to emerge, the cravings begin. Stomachs gurgle. Suddenly, everyone’s parched. The crew begins interpreting then reinterpreting every point of land, trying to name anything and everything that points above the emerging tree line. How much longer? The conversation changes. Instead of wondering whether the winds are backing, there is speculation about whether the showers will be hot and the beers cold. How soon before we can let our bodies relax and enjoy whatever it is that the journey has us craving: an easy sleep, a good meal or some cool shade?
Whenever we reach that point in a journey, the same words go through my head: All shall be revealed. It’s too soon to be speculating about dots on the horizon. I’ll put the kettle on to distract the crew from their anticipation. There is more sailing to enjoy or endure. We need to keep our heads here, in this moment. Our way is good, and all shall be revealed.
I’m writing this one week after getting my first covid vaccination jab. I’ve been keeping close track of which loved ones have had the jab and which are still to come. And I feel very much like we’ve been on a long journey together – all of us. And now, the shoreline is starting to emerge. Our bodies are beginning to anticipate relief, to send up signals of protest, desire and cravings. “I want a hug, dammit!” my body screams as my daughter waves good-bye and disappears into her building. She’s been working on the very front of the front lines, watching the numbers grow and the well of sadness deepen. Best to wait for that hug. We’re not there yet. We have miles to go. All shall be revealed. For now, it’s steady on. Mind your course, sailor. Have a cuppa. Soon enough, all shall be revealed.