METAPHORICALLY SPEAKING



I started this Sail Junky experiment in a personal storm. A proper Force 9. I tried, at first to keep my anonymity on the site.. I just wanted an avenue to write my thoughts, while still being a useful project to a community that I have come to admire. I honestly didn't know where it would go, and still don't.


The writings I share here, while loosely related to sailing, are often my avenue for sounding out my anxieties, fears, and challenges while I navigate the storm... and hopefully.. one day.. about my successes.


Sail Junky has been very fortunate to have contributors who also share their experiences. It caught the eye of some great people in the sailing community and they have supported the mission well. Great articles, interviews, and support. I've made new friends.


But it is also true that the storm rages on.


Sailing.. the idea of it, the goal of it.. is something that haunts every moment for me. In some ways it has become obsessive over natural. The absurdity is that I am not a seasoned sailor. I am pursuing this as a goal to fight a crisis. To make such a big life challenge to sail the Atlantic Loop and see what parts of the world I can on a "Great Adventure". But I don't know what I'm doing. I am struggling in so many facets to get it together.


My highs have begun to sink, and my lows are... well pretty f#@&ing low.


I wrote this recently as a letter written from "my boat".. obviously in a low..


I am broken. As I sit here on the hard there are only two possible paths: refit or decay.


My hull is not ready for the water. My repairs to make it so are partial and novice at best.


There are some who try to help but they too have their own systems to tend to.


My interior has promise but not much really works. It has a good appearance but the truth beneath the sole is not functional.


My appearance on the outside was once of youth, speed, and confidence, but the years of weather and rough pilings is easy to see now.


My standing rigging is strong.. it has to be to keep me upright in this state but my running rigging is brittle, chaffed, and non-functional.


Small attempts are made to keep hope of a refit.. glimmers of hope here and there.. but the scope of the task is large.. perhaps too large.


I am broken. I feel that decay is inevitable. Perhaps tomorrow will change.


It's so very easy to sink low when having a personal crisis.. especially in this world today. It's so very easy to feel overwhelmed and not believe that things will get better.. that the task of refitting this once streamlined vessel is even possible.


So it's all one big obvious metaphor. Spending time on this boat, fixing this boat.. taking the boat on a great adventure. At times it feels impossible.. refitting the boat.. refitting me.


I look forward to continuing to include articles from other contributors here so that the site speaks in many other ways to this cool community we started.. and you'll just have to forgive me.. I will keep writing the story of the metaphor because today.. I believe it will end well.


Perhaps tomorrow will change.

Mike D. is the founder of Sail Junky Magazine. Striving to find more purpose in life, Mike writes and shares about his journey to rediscover his passion for living a fulfilled life, especially through the medium of sailing. sailjunkymagazine@gmail.com

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