Tuesday, 22 January 2013

At Sea

I am at sea. I watch the sunset glittering over the surface, air sighing at the end of day, wind easing itself into night. All about me smells of salt and seaweed, splash and mist, sea and sky. My boat drifts along, holding its head steady against the light breeze that fills the main and fore. The lines grab and the sheets strain as the sails capture the air. The upper luff snaps and holds, the lower main bulges and billows.

I am at sea. A whale blows a mist nearby, bursting the surface, steaming the air and rumbling. Salmon are jumping and seals swim by, staring at me wondering what I am doing in their home. Eagles soar overhead, watching the surface of the sea for something swimming shallow enough for them to snatch up and eat. Sea lions bark in the distance; I can smell their odor drifting on the light breeze.

I am at sea. This is the place I go when I am in my chair, motionless, quiet and still. This is the place in my mind that keeps me alive. This is the memory, the joy, the contentment. Many days I spent on board, each of them a wonder and renewal, each of them a gift, a reward. I am at sea even when on land, trapped in a failing body, stuck in a life that loses something each day.

I am at sea. It is important for me to keep my mind alive. It is all I have. It is the place I live. My mind is active as my body fails me. My mind works when my fingers, my feet, my legs, my arms, and even my lungs fail me. My mind keeps me active when my body keeps me still. When I stop living inside my head, I stop living outside of it.

I am at sea. This is not a dream. This was not a dream. I lived a life once. I explored my world. I wandered. I experienced. I still do; this kind of life is a new experience. This new life means I spend more time inside myself, considering and thinking, wondering and contemplating. Having a body that works means you can avoid these things. In some ways having my body fail me brings me ever more awareness of what is different now.

I think about those differences. If you see me looking off somewhere and ask what I am thinking about, I may say "nothing" but you can rest assured I am on my boat. I am at sea.


  1. The mind is a beautiful thing ,at this time it feeds the life you are living and helps you get out of your restrictions. I love you my dear soon. I cry for you but I am proud of you too.
    much love Mom