In
what seemed like an instant, I retired from full-time work, my
marriage unraveled, and my son went off to college. Yikes—I didn’t
know who I was anymore. It felt like everything had been taken
away—or worse, that I had bet my life on a good hand, and
lost.
This
much was clear: I was done living out our culture’s stock formulas
for fulfillment. Instead, I felt a determination within to discover
my own version of what it meant to welcome in the final chapters
with vitality and purpose. I could hear the Universe speaking
to me: feel the exhilaration that comes from embracing the implicit danger of the unknown. Yet I had only the slightest awareness of
how to construct such a reality.
So,
I went to the sea to find myself, again. Somehow, down deep,
I knew that only a full immersion into the energy of the ocean
would bring me home to my authentic self. And I knew that
arriving at my deathbed without having at least attempted my
dream of long-distance sailing was unacceptable, even if I ended
up not liking it. In my view, the only failure would be not having
tried.
Throughout
my journey I relied on the complex and hard-to define essence
of spirit. When
I trusted it, and allowed it to be present
in my life, it would anchor and guide me. I have learned that
what my head tells me is only one source of knowledge, and often not the
most reliable.
I
had no idea how this year of intense transition and personal growth
would evolve when I set sail. At times it was scary, especially when
I realized there wasn’t even a destination to be had, merely
an unfolding process. For sure, there were plenty of risks, like
abruptly stopping work, leaving my beloved house and community behind,
sailing the ocean while putting my life and the lives
of others on the line, and loving another imperfect being. All
that in pursuit of a more in-depth, engaged life.
I
sailed into the emptiness, only to discover that life is not about
resolution; we just keep adding capacity to engage more of
the mystery. And that is
the miracle.
Please,
come join me on my journey.
Ed
Merck, October 2012