Ode to Yachting, One

In honor of my "retirement" from the yachting industry, I thought I'd post the very first letter I wrote to my friends and family at home shortly after I joined my first yacht.  A little walk down memory lane if you will.  Reading this, I have to chuckle to myself about how enthusiastic I was about my exciting new adventure and what details my novice mind selected as worthy of sharing.  So here it is, the first letter I wrote as a "yachtie", over 4 years ago....

Hello All!

I just thought I’d send you all an update on my where-abouts and what I have been up to, since I still do not have a cell phone and rarely even hop online. 

At work on my first boat

This past week has been crazy busy.  Last week Tuesday, we departed from Cannes for a 24-hour passage to Tarragona, a city about 40 miles west of Barcelona.  Throughout that 24 hours, I worked 4 hours on watch, and 4 hours off (to sleep!).  We set the boat on autopilot, and whomever is on watch uses several radar screens to locate other boats, in addition to a pair of trusty binoculars.  I was super excited about the binoculars and used them to spot ANY floating item I could, which included boats, birds, and a LOT of garbage (rubbish, as my crewmates call it).  

My favorite item I spotted was not an item at all, but 3 separate schools of dolphins!  The first time we spotted them, my captain told me to run to the bow and hit the side of the boat and yell at the dolphins.  At first, I thought he was only trying to make me look like a fool, but it actually works.  So every time we spotted dolphins, I would excitedly run outside, bang on the bow and yell “Hi Dolphins!”, and because they like the vibration of the boat (and my shouting), scores of them swarmed around the boat, jumping and leaping out of the water.  Ahead of us, they raced to greet the boat, and behind us, they did back flips in our wake.  It was absolutely amazing to watch.  At one point when I was “talking” to the dolphins in a loud excited voice, my captain, who was inside, thought he was hearing the dolphins chatter, but another crew member informed him, the squealing was me.  What can I say?   This is all new and exciting to me! 

Tarragona

Unfortunately, the voyage wasn’t all good.  Having almost finished my midnight to 4am shift, I thought I was in the clear.  The problem arose (no pun intended) from trying to spot other boats in a black sea against a black moonless sky, with no lights on inside or outside of the boat, while feeling the waves crash against the boat as we moved forward, full speed ahead into a black abyss.  I could hardly tell up from down.  Needless to say, my equilibrium was not having it.  I began to feel queasy, but decided I would stay strong and NOT get sick.  Not on my first passage.  Not after all my crewmates had joked earlier that day about whether the newbie would get sick or not.  Well, my stomach didn’t care about any of that.  As my captain and I chatted away, right in mid-conversation, I bolted.  The sea had gotten the better of me.  Darn it.  Oh well, I’ll have my sea legs soon enough... I hope.

After surviving the trip, we arrived in lovely Tarragona, Spain, a beautiful city filled with Roman ruins.  I was lucky enough to have some time to explore the city, visit a pub, and eat at a tapas bar (yum!) when we first arrived.  The past few days I have been working from the moment I wake until my head hits the pillow, in preparation for the owner’s visit.  The owner and his family have just boarded today and will be onboard for the next 3 weeks or more.  That means I will continue to be crazily busy, but will try to drop a line whenever I can!

Hope all is well with everyone.

Miss you all!

Mary :)

Find Your Space

Have you ever found yourself at a loss, feeling fragmented, over-loaded, over-whelmed, or scattered?  And you can’t quite put your finger on what is skewing your energy?

Usually when I am feeling this way, the first thing I know I need to do is to “Find My Space”.   Of course, this has multiple meanings, both needing to find a place of peace and calm within my own self, but also, most often to attain that, I need some time in an actual physical place of peace and calm in order to find my own clarity once again.

Of course this can be done in many ways, sitting quietly in a favorite room, or heading out of your home to a nearby coffee shop, or by simply going outside and spending some time in nature. 

Although, often, to get to the root of your disconnect, all you need to do is take a look around you.  Around your immediate space.  Take a look at your home, bedroom, closets, work desk, what have you.  What is that space saying to you, and about you, energetically?  How does its current state reflect what is going on inside of you?  Often times, when our mind feels chaotic, our personal space reflects that chaos with clutter, uncleanliness, and/or old items that we have long outgrew but hang onto for one reason or another.

So now it is time to find your space and reclaim it as your own.  Reclaim it as a peaceful refuge for your mind, body, and spirit to reside.  Honor that space, respect that space, and see THAT as the reflection of you.  Honor, respect, and pride.  In your space and in yourself.

This week, I have been desperately needing to clear my overloaded and overwhelmed brain.  As I looked around my current living situation, I could clearly see the direct reflection in my immediate space.  Still not decided which caused which, a classic case of the chicken or the egg, but what I do know is that both my mind/energy and my physical space were directly affecting one another.

So in order to clear my brain, I needed to clear my space.  Operation:Overhaul!!!

After having just moved back into my mother’s place last week, I found myself overwhelmed trying to fit all my belongings I had brought back with me from the boat into my already full closets and bookshelves at my mom’s.  As I told my mom, I felt like I was trying to move into someplace that someone was already living in.  And in a way, I was moving into someone else’s place, with someone else’s things.  The old me. 

I have been traveling and living aboard boats for the past four plus years, and before that, I had homes and apartments, with a roommate or with my then boyfriend.  I had a lot of stuff from my various homes, so when I left to do yachting, my mom’s place became not only my own personal storage space, but also the official dumping ground for all my things I didn’t want or need to have with me, but also wasn’t ready to let go of.  Things I wasn’t able to let go of because it might come in useful later, or I had spent a lot of money on it, or because I had once really loved it, or some other reason.

After futilely trying to fit all of my current “things” into a closet full of used-to-be’s, I stopped for a moment, in the middle of a critical sort-session, sitting on my floor with items scattered all around me in piles and messes, and I looked up at my heaving closet which was threatening to explode at any moment, showering me with sweaters and tops and scarves and jeans, galore, I thought to myself,  “It’s too much. Too much stuff.  Way too much stuff.”

And the more I uprooted, the more undealt with stuff I discovered, the bigger mess I made, and the more overwhelmed I felt.  Old paperwork, old photos, electronics, CDs, clothes.  Clothes.  Clothes.  Geez, and I just went through a huge purge three months ago after completing the Camino.  Where are all these clothes coming from?  Clothes for every season and in-between season you can imagine.  Island clothes, city clothes, MN clothes, hiking gear, you name it, and it all was scattered about, looking quite literally like a tornado had whipped through my room.  Oy vey.  Where was my shelter?

Looking myself in the mirror and feeling utterly defeated by the task at hand, wading through piles of stuff, I asked my tired, worn-out, lost refection, “What are you doing?”  And in that very moment, thank the Lord, a clear and simple answer came to me.  Such a simple plan of attack.  Take all of this stuff OUT of my room, out of this immediate space, out of this cross-fire of new vs. old, and put it in a neutral space to sort after I get my room squared away.

And so the schlepping began.  From my room to the neighboring family room, which luckily for me, is rarely used.  I hauled it out.  All of it.  All the things I was humming and hawing over, all the paperwork I just didn’t have the energy just now to sort through, all the wall hangings and décor, everything. 

Then turning my focus back to my now nearly empty room, I cleaned the beep out of it, from top to bottom.  All the while telling myself I was making a space to welcome my spirit back home to.  A clean, uncluttered space that is truly reflective of me, now.  Not me 4 years ago, or of me two years ago, but of ME now, and of the ME I am becoming.  Hells yeah!

So I cleaned, then I set things up how I wanted them.  I told myself nothing from the family room is coming back in here until it is sorted, I have decided it belongs in here, and it has a proper home to stay in.  Otherwise, it is going somewhere else (in my actual storage area in the basement), or I am letting it go.  Releasing it.  Saying goodbye to the things I no longer need.  Give these things the opportunity to bring happiness to someone else.  Because all this extra unneeded stuff is only dragging me down.  By setting this “stuff” free, I am simultaneously setting myself free.

Anyhow, this major move just happened yesterday, but once I had my room cleaned and organized, I immediately felt the peace return.  I could breathe again.  Deeply and fully.  I actually WANTED to spend time in this room now rather than run from it.  And instead of feeling overwhelmed by this space, it now inspires me. 

My "Manifesting Station"

I turned each dresser top and bookshelf top into a sort of manifesting station.  In a non-cluttered, Zen sort of way, of course.  Atop of one of my low bookshelves, I strategically placed a stack of books with titles representing my next adventure.  The titles being, “The Sacred Sites Bible,”  “Tales of a Female Nomad,” “Creating Money,” “The Power of Now,” "Your Heart's Desire," and “Sacred Places.”  On top of this stack of books, I placed a beautiful large clear quartz crystal to further magnify the energy that these books hold.  Perhaps you can guess what it is I am trying to manifest?  To travel the world, visiting sacred sights, then sharing my stories with others through either the written or spoken word.  However that may be.   I hope, hope, hope to find some sort of paying gig for this!  What an amazing career and life that would be!  Whoo-hoo!!!!

Atop of my nightstand, I have my lamp, with a small dream catcher hanging from the on/off knob, and a small stack of books about New Zealand, and on top of the books sits a beautiful heart-shaped stone I had found along the path while walking the Camino this past Spring.  This little “manifesting station” is to help manifest the trip I hope to take to see my friends in New Zealand later this year.  So every night before I close my eyes, this will be the last thing I see.  And hopefully my dream catcher will “catch” some great ideas from my subconscious on how I can make this a reality.

A big WHEW!, and a Hallelujah! to finding my space and making it my own again.  ;)  That phrase, “Find Your Space”, has come to mind on many occasions when I have felt foggy-brained or unclear, and often times all it takes to feel clear-minded again is to simply and quite literally do just that.  Clear your space.  Clean your space.  Honor your space and honor yourself.  Release old things that are no longer you so that you can create the space for something that is.  Something that is YOU, NOW.  So who are you now and who do you hope to become?  Find Your Space and find out.

Strength, Deux

All right, so I have done it!  And how appropriate that I am updating my blog exactly one month after my last post, Strength?! 

So what exactly have I done, you may ask.  Let me tell you.  I exercised my true strength.  I flexed my bulging biceps.  I let the truth ring from my vocal chords.  I made the decision that I will no longer accept what is unacceptable and that I will no longer subject myself to a situation that is doing nothing but harming my psyche (and depriving me of my sleep).

In other words, I put my foot down, and I quit.  I quit my job, which in my life, means I then also had to change my residence, as they are one in the same in the world of yachting.  And I couldn’t feel better.

Free at last, free at last, thank God almighty I am free at last! 

(Yes, that is how strongly I feel about this.)

So not only did I have to exercise my strength by (1) deciding I can and will take this leap.  No matter what, I will be all right. ;) But also because (2) I had to let go of a few fabulous plans I had for later in the year by telling myself they will still happen if they are meant to (visiting dear friends and do some hiking in New Zealand and Australia.  Boo-hoo!!!!  Fingers-crossed I can still pull this one off!).  Finally, I exercised my strength by, perhaps most importantly, (3) by speaking up for myself and for my fellow crewmates, as to what is acceptable and what is not (again).

Unbeknownst to me, my leaving was not going to be as simple as even that.   My unexpected move caught the attention of a few other higher-ups (as in the BIG boss), resulting in myself being summoned for a meeting with some big-wigs I am not normally involved with to discuss my reasons for leaving.

I will not share what I said, but I will say that I spoke my truth with as much clarity and love as I possibly could.  I didn’t turn it into a he-said, she-said thing, and I didn’t finger-point or blame.  I simply gave the facts, in a compassionate way.  And thank my lucky stars, the person(s) I spoke with were very receptive, and understanding. 

After that conversation, I was finally able to feel some peace in this situation knowing I had been HEARD.   I don’t know what action will be taken to help the situation now that I am gone, or if anything will even happen at all.  But at least I feel that I have done my part.  I spoke my truth, and I got the ball rolling by shedding some light on what can be improved, for the sake of the crew as a whole.  Perhaps I inspired a few others to stand up for themselves as well, or maybe not.  At least I showed that it can be done.  All I know is that I did what was best for me, by honoring the truth of who I am. 

So even though I am now back at my Mom’s residence for a bit, and am technically “out of a job”, I couldn’t feel more proud of myself for doing what I did.  It was certainly a learning experience as well as a golden opportunity to show myself just how strong I really am.  And to show myself just how greatly I have grown.  (This is where I pat myself on the back.) ;)

What's next?  Oh my, I've got a whole list of new adventures!!  Stay posted to find out!

My Mantras as of late (feel free to make them your own) :

I SPEAK and LIVE my TRUTH with CLARITY and LOVE.

I RELEASE all that I no longer need.  

Hooray!! :)  And hells-to-the-yeah!!

P.S.  Happy Blue Moon!!

Strength

Strength.  What is it and how do we know we are using our strength in the best possible way?

Maybe it has something to do with my Midwest upbringing, but sometimes I feel I must be a glutton for punishment.  Or so it seems at the moment.  People here in Minnesota and Wisconsin are humble, friendly folk, but they do pride themselves in one particular thing.   Their resiliency.  Being tough.  Strong.  Most certainly stemming from the fact that we can endure such extreme weather, namely our well-below freezing winters that we are so well known for.  We figure that if we can survive and even thrive through Mother Natures’ odds, we believe we can handle anything.  I find it to be a lovely trait to have been blessed to learn at an early age, but also, I wonder if that ‘grin and bare it’ attitude has been a bit too influential in certain areas in my life where an 'up yours' attitude is more called for.

Nonetheless, that is what I have been taught true strength is.  Toughing it out.  Being strong enough to weather any bad situation.  Staying in it and coming out knowing you are a better, and bigger person for having survived it.  And I agree with that…to an extent.  What if I don’t want or need to be a “better, bigger person” in this particular situation anymore?  What if I feel I have done my growing in this area of my life and I don’t care what anyone else thinks because I already know that I am who I am and that I am a good person whether anyone else in this particular situation can see it or not?  (Obviously I am NOT talking about Minnesota winters anymore ;)) Yes, there is always the argument that tough times build character, but any situation, both good and bad, can build your character all the same.  I believe that we don’t have to learn our lessons in life through struggle, if we so choose.  We can learn our lessons and better build our character in gentler and much easier ways.  And all lesson-learning aside, sometimes it’s just time to move on.  Yelling 'Up Yours!' as you walk away.  Ok fine, I'll say it under my breath.

 

So back to my original question, what does it mean to have strength? Is it sticking out a shitty situation or is it acknowledging the fact that a situation simply is not healthy for you to be in any longer?  A situation that is not improving you in any way.  A situation that is in fact, just the opposite.  A soul-sucking, emotionally-draining, and inner-light-diminishing bottomless pit.  Yuck, yuck, and YUCK.

The fact is, we all deserve to be in environments that nurture us and contribute to our highest good.  So, perhaps that is true strength.  Knowing your truth well enough and deeply loving yourself enough to say enough is enough.  When you care enough to leave a situation or environment that no longer serves you.  Acknowledging the situation for what it is and being strong enough to say good-bye.  For once and for all.  Buh-Bye.  Uh-huh, buh-bye.  See ya later sucka.  See ya on the flip side, or actually, hope I never see you again.

So, this is the struggle I am currently faced with (duh.).  Is my strength best used by “handling” this situation I find myself in, or does my strength need to be flexed (biceps bulging) by standing up for who I am and what I believe in by no longer allowing myself to be subjected to a negative, unhealthy environment? That I love and care enough for my gentle, beautiful soul to walk away from a situation that is harming me.  That I am not afraid of what will happen next because I know that by following my heart and my intuition, I will be rewarded with the next great adventure waiting for me.

I’m quite sure I now know the answer to my question.  And I know that by listening to my heart and my intuition, and taking the action I am prompted to do will only strengthen me more.  We all know that actions speak louder than words, and by taking action, not only will I be removing myself from a toxic environment, but I will simultaneously be telling my heart how much I value it and its role in my life.  That I am the person that matters most to me in my life.  Wouldn’t it be great if we all told ourselves that more often?  And more importantly, acted as though it were the truth.

Homesick

While on the Camino, I thought a lot about my home, or lack thereof.   I haven’t had a real home for the past four years, and was feeling a bit displaced because of it.  One morning while walking, I asked the Universe to please reveal to me where my home was.  Or where it should be.  I told the Universe that I was open to whatever answer I may receive.  Open to wherever the Universe felt was best.

I expected to receive a feeling, a knowing, to indicate that I should perhaps move to Oregon, New York, Spain, or some other location.  But I didn’t receive an answer that day.  Nor did my answer arrive by the end of the Camino.  So I returned to the States, still wondering where my home was meant to be. 

But today, I got it.  I got my answer, and it is one I wouldn’t ever have expected.  An answer so ironic, I could just laugh out loud.

Tonight I watched the movie, The Way for the second time, but for the first time since I have returned from walking the Camino myself.   As I watched Martin Sheen and his new comrades hoist their packs onto their backs and begin their hike across Spain, I immediately felt tears welling up in my eyes.  Not tears of sadness, or of wanting to be there again, but tears of…..love.  Of how much I love the Camino.   And I felt…..homesick.  Homesick for the Camino.

Homesick??  Is it possible to feel homesick for an experience?  A moment in time?  A journey on which I never slept in the same bed (or city for that matter) twice? 

I have always recognized the validity of the old saying, “Home is where the heart is”, or at least I thought I did.   I guess I did not realize that I had somehow put stipulations upon this phrase in my mind.  As open-minded as I like to think I am, I realize that I was operating under the assumption that this referred to “home” was still a physical place of some sort in which you reside, and where, at the very least, you are with another person with whom you love.  But tonight, I realize that’s not quite right.  It’s deeper than that.  And simpler.

eofdreams.com

If home is where MY heart is, my unique, one-of-a-kind heart, then, my home is wherever I give and receive love- to anyone (including myself).  My home is where I laugh and smile.  Where I feel safe and accepted.  Where I am free to be exactly who I am, and am celebrated for it.  Home is where I am happy and at peace being alone with myself, and home is where I celebrate being surrounded by my amazing friends I am so blessed to have.  Home is wherever I am when I am living my life as my most Authentic Self, and wherever and whenever I allow my heart to truly sing.

My home is where I stand and gaze up at the full moon.  Home is where I feel the wind in my hair and clean air in my lungs.  Home is in the eyes, smile, and arms of a loved one.  Home is in my deep connection to the very soul of the Universe and to all the beautiful souls within it.

Now knowing what “home” is to me, I now realize I have been blessed with many homes in my life.  My home is on the dirt path of the Camino.  My home is at anchor off of the Amalfi Coast.  My home is in an old palace in a small village in Scotland.  My home is in the Redwoods of California, and on the beaches of Maui. My home is in lands I still have yet to explore. 

I have been searching for my home for quite sometime, and today, I feel a bit silly, now realizing that the answer is (and always has been) as obvious as the nose on my face.  It doesn't matter what state or country I decide to live in because my home is literally within ME.  It always has been and it always will be.  Looking for my place on this earth is futile, because I am at home, period.  No matter where I am or what I am doing.  A vagabond I may be, but a home I always shall have.

And if I don’t say so myself, my heart is the most wonderful and beautiful home I could ever have hoped to have.  Thanks Universe. ;)

Please enjoy a very favorite song of mine from Ben Harper, Give a Man a Home.
Ben Harper, Give a Man a Home