Adventures in Sailing: A Metaphor for Life

You need wind in your sail and the boat will move forward.

When was the last time you took up an unfamiliar sport or hobby?

As adults, we tend to stick with what we are good at.

It’s fun to learn something new as long as we don’t have to make a fool of ourselves.

Or risk failure.

I can’t draw a straight line. I have two left feet. I flunked gym. I’m bad with technology. I’m afraid of heights. I can’t carry a tune. I’m not creative.

My quest to say “Yes” in 2022 includes trying things outside my comfort level and experience.

I’ve had years of ballet training, so trying new forms of dance, while at first challenging, is still fun and familiar. Chance of failure pretty low. Fear factor-zero.

I knew I needed to stretch myself if I was to conquer fears.

It was time to raise the bar.

This summer I signed up for sailing lessons.

Before you say, Oh, how fun!, please know it was not on my top list of activities. In fact, applying to be a civilian passenger on a spacecraft ranked higher. (I did apply but that is another story.)

Prior to signing up, the only sailboat I’d been on was a 70 ft. catamaran in Key West. Now that was fun.

I got to relax, enjoy a margarita and good company, while a master skipper took to the giant sails. With a calm sea, perfect weather, and a spectacular sunset…What’s not to like?

My summer sailing lessons were offered through a yacht club on our town lake. The legendary sailing coach, Bob G. has been sailing, racing, and teaching for 50 years!

At age 80, Bob still possesses incredible strength and stamina.  I watched in awe as he jumped in and out of the boats, helping the students rig their sails. 

These sail boats are not huge. You sit low and close to the water. There’s no motor. You can’t quickly change direction or speed. There’s a feeling of vulnerability, at least for me, being out in one.

View from the Dock

And I had no idea there was so much involved in the sport. 

Putting on the rudder. Bailing the water. Lowering the boom. Rigging the main sail and the gib sail. Securing the ropes.

And that’s all before you leave the dock!

Upon returning to the dock or mooring, you have to do everything again in reverse.

Then there is the sailing vocabulary to learn: tacking, gibing, luffing, beam reach, in irons, centerline, starboard, port, leeward, fairlead, and clew.

My sense of direction has never been great, so learning the essential Points of Sail proved challenging, as well.

My Homework

I can still do a double pirouette but cannot tie a proper knot for the life of me. Can you, dear reader, tie a quick Bowline knot?  

Wikipedia

At home I practiced tying with the help of YouTube tutorials. By the next sailing class, though, I’d forgotten the procedure.

This sense of defeat made me sympathetic to what my adult ballet students must have felt when I demonstrated the sequence of a seemingly simple dance combination. Why couldn’t they get it? I’d thought at the time.

It didn’t take Captain Bob long to pick up on my anxiety.

Instead of letting me sail with my requested partner our first time out, Bob assigned me to his boat, along with Mary, another sailing novice.

Bob was patient but firm, giving clear directions and expecting us to follow suit.

Never mind the information overload. At least I felt safe in Bob’s boat. He could read the wind and water like I analyze a poem.

Next lesson, though, we were on our own. Bob would monitor us, and the other class members, from his motor boat.

Yikes.

There were moments of panic in the middle of the lake when I was doing everything wrong, my partner’s commands coming too fast for me to process.

At times, I feared the boat would capsize. (Did I mention I don’t like swimming in lakes?)

Upon seeing the distress signal, Bob did not heed my request to return to the dock.

Instead, he sent his teenage assistant over in a rowboat.

The agile boy climbed in our sailboat. “What’s troubling you?” he said, sounding more like a therapist-in-training.

The boy assured me that we wouldn’t capsize. Or crash into the oncoming boats.

Though he admitted it could feel that way.

“Just do this to balance the boat,” he demonstrated, sitting atop the side and leaning far backwards. 

Ah, sure. Thanks.

Next class, just before sunset, the lake remained still. I began to relax and enjoy the scenery from a new vantage point.

I felt as if I’d stepped into a Monet painting.

“San Giorgio Maggiore at Dusk “ Claude-Monet.com

Bob rowed over to my boat, his arm sweeping across the gorgeous sky.“See? This is what it’s all about!”

After each sail practice, Bob did a debriefing back on land, offering tips on wind currents, sailing maneuvers, and safety measures.

Once, after spending a half hour just rigging the boat, pushing away from the dock and setting sail, he called us back in because of a lightning threat. 

After we gathered on shore, Bob reminded us of the old adage:

“You can’t control the weather, only the direction of your sails.“

Yes!

That metaphor fit my life perfectly. What a great lesson for us all.

Karla’s Korner

* * *

On the last day of class, Bob pronounced us graduated. “Summa cum laude!” 

I think he was being generous with me. I’m no way ready to skipper a sailboat. For now, I’ve advanced from passive passenger to cautious crew.

Captain Bob

Learning a new skill is good for our brain. Doing something we fear is good for our spirit.  

This summer, I accomplished both.

I’m still working on that Bowline knot.

“Call me Evelyn.“

Christine Lindstrom

Writing in Key West: A Seminar Named Desire

Sun, sea, sand.

Three words that bring me joy in January.

Add to this trio communing with kindred spirits and the joyful picture is complete.

I recently spent a week in Florida at the Key West Literary Seminar exploring the craft of creative nonfiction under the guide of esteemed author David Treuer. 

This year’s Seminar theme was Desire.

For three hours each morning I, along with 10 other writers, grappled with how to tell true stories in engaging and meaningful ways. We considered subject, form, voice, detail, conflict, momentum, and dramatic arc.

We read and critiqued each other’s works-in-progress and learned strategies for creating compelling nonfiction. We discussed the writing life and shared our life stories. 

Doing this among strangers takes courage, but it wasn’t long until we bonded over our shared passion.

Being in the physical presence of fellow writers for the first time in over two years, was at times overwhelming. In a good way. Sometimes you don’t realize what you are missing until it arrives. 

Workshop friends

Workshop leader and author, David Treuer

Writers on Writing talk and book signing.

Many literary luminaries wrote in Key West including Ernest Hemingway, Elizabeth Bishop, Shel Silverstein, Robert Frost, Tennessee Williams, Wallace Stevens, Anne Beattie, and Judy Blume.

Writers continue to draw inspiration from this unique place. If you visit, make sure to take the Literary Walking Tour. 

View from Hemingway House

Old Man and the Sea Exhibit

Hemingway’s writing studio

One of the 56 Hemingway cat descendants. This one six-toed.

The arts abound in the Key West. The island is only 5 square miles, easily walkable and bike rentals readily available. The place is full of color and character. I found the locals quite friendly.

The stars truly aligned for all this to happen amidst the Omicron threat. I am grateful to the Seminar committee for granting me a fellowship, along with the lovely accommodations at Eden House.

This break in routine, change of scenery, socializing, and inspiration all served to jump-start my creativity and motivation. 

I gained the direction and focus needed to complete the essay I’d struggled with for many months.  “The Bridge That Fell Down” is now ready to send out into the world. 

I hope you, too, can find ways to experience this much-needed rejuvenation, big or small, in anyway possible. 

One Day At A Time? Imagining post Covid life.

During the height of the Covid-19 pandemic, imagining the future seemed downright scary, if not impossible.

The undeniable uncertainty of the virus, along with the chaotic state of our society, seemed to demand we move toward the One Day At At Time, philosophy.

Planners and long-range thinkers surrendered. Those who had always tended to lived within the NOW, were more prepared to ride the anxious wave of uncertainty. 

Imagining a future safe hug from a distant loved one,

or a trip abroad,

or the sweet kiss of a grandchild,

was about as much forward thinking as many of us could handle.

Enough hope to light our way.

But thanks to a medical miracle, the world began opening up, albeit amidst continued divide and tragedy. 

A new kind of normal in which to navigate.

Some of us began to hope. To plan. To move forward.  To imagine a post COVID future.

Are you making travel plans? Saving for retirement? Revisiting your New Year’s goals? Starting a creative project? Moving?  Switching careers? Filing for divorce?

As we sort through the wreckage, many of us are re-evaluating our pre-pandemic life. Now seems like a ripe time for life renovation, no matter the losses. Even small repairs can reap enormous benefits. 

The uncertainty has always been there, just easier for us to deny. Worrying about the future isn’t helpful but planning, even if it’s just day-by-day, can get you there eventually.

This is how I feel about my novel-in-progress. I’m getting closer each day. But if I think too far ahead, I begin to imagine all the potential obstacles, the chance for failure.

I choke.

To temper the overwhelm that comes from looking too far forward, I recall E. L. Doctorow’s quote:

Pretty good life advice for us all at the present moment.

Do You Need An Accountability Partner?

Do you have something big you want to accomplish but haven’t?  Do you have trouble sticking to a long-term goal?

Last month, I wrote about finding inspiration when you are creatively stuck. One reader wrote me that she has no problem finding inspiration. “I’m filled with creative visions.  My problem is always follow-through, especially when the going gets rough.”    

As a writer, I relate to this predicament. Ideas come easily to me. The beginning stage of writing a novel is kind of like falling in love—everything is new and exciting.  Possibilities abound. 

But sticking with it through the long haul inevitably means experiencing frustration, disappointment, and dry spells. And yes, sometimes loneliness and despair.

Whether you’re trying to write your first book, save for retirement, lose 20 pounds, or train for a marathon, staying on track is the hardest part.  Meeting any long-term goal requires continual motivation, discipline, and fortitude. Let’s be honest–who has an abundant supply of these traits?

If you recognize yourself here, then you may benefit from an accountability partner.

An AP is a trusted individual who holds you responsible for achieving your goals. In working with an accountability partner, you identify goals, then come up with a short-term plan of action.

You then report your progress through regular checkpoints via email, phone, Skype, or in-person.

An accountability partner can also offer:

-Advice and perspective

-Ideas and resources

-A listening ear

-Support and motivation

-Brainstorming

Sometimes, an AP is just a kind soul who volunteers 15 minutes a week to keep you on track.

Then there’s the reciprocal partnership in which you serve as each other’s Accountability Partner. Psychological research backs up its effectiveness. Just finding a partner with whom to share your goals increases the likelihood that you will achieve them.

It’s  a lot more fun to take a daily power walk with a friend than go at it alone for 45 minutes. Knowing you must check in with your weight-loss buddy each week makes it easier to pass up that chocolate donut. Reporting your daily word count to a fellow writer keeps you glued to your laptop (and off Facebook). 

By working with an Accountability Partner, you are harnessing the power of positive peer pressure to motivate change.

Tips for finding an Accountability Partner:

Look to a trusted friend, neighbor, co-worker, classmate, or family member. If you’re a writer, try posting a request on a writer’s forum. Check out local writer’s groups. Network at a writing conference.  

Tips for Making it Work:

—Know what you want to get out of the partnership.

—Find a partner who is looking for similar goals/results.

—Find a partner who is in a similar place of experience.

—Decide on the method and frequency of communication.

—Be honest.

–Be willing to invest equally in the relationship.

 I recently found my Accountability Partner—or I should say, she found me.  Connie and I live 800 miles apart.  We email and talk on the phone. We share goals and next action steps. We identify challenges and offer each other feedback.

Why is it always easier to help someone else with her problem areas?

Though we are working on different types of writing projects, the process is similar.  We both must make time for our writing and avoid distraction. We both need to track our word/page count. We both must troubleshoot and problem-solve. 

Since I have a lot more writing and publishing experience than Connie, I’ve had to identify the areas in which she can best help me. I won’t be looking to her for critique—I’ve already found someone for that. 

Rather, it’s the act of stating my goals out loud to another human and reporting my progress that matters.  If I don’t complete my stated goals, Connie helps me figure out why. Her coaching background offers me techniques for deciding which projects I should invest my time in.

In turn, I suggested that we each track our time and keep a Got Done list.  Already, I’ve noticed an uptick in my productivity.

This new relationship is a work-in-progress.  The only challenge so far is that Connie and I really enjoy talking to each other, so phone meetings go off in many directions. Maybe this just means that, in addition to finding an AP,  I’ve made a new friend.

Have you worked with an accountability partner? If so, what were the results?

What I learned in 2014

I’ve already admitted that I’m not one for New Year’s Resolutions. 

That doesn’t mean I don’t reflect, though, on the past year. A day older, a day wiser–hopefully.  When you start thinking about all that happened to you in the past year–the good, the bad, and the ugly–you may come to see that you are indeed a bit wiser.  

So this New Year’s day, I asked myself: what have I learned in 2014?  

Without going into the details of how and when I learned these things, I’m simply sharing the list.  Maybe one of them will resonate with you.

1. Family really matters. Make the time.
2. Say the things you need/want to say to the people you care about. Now.
3. If you’re not sure what to do or say to someone in pain, just listen to your heart and take a chance.
4. Coffee dates are better than Facebook chatting.
5. Learn to identify what is trivial before the trivial takes over your life.
6. You cannot write the script for the universe.
7. The only one who can make time for pursuing your dream is YOU.

I guess most of us already know these things deep down. It’s just that our daily clutter has a way of obscuring their truth.  Then we forget.  

 When you think about what you’ve learned (instead of where you have failed), the needed changes are more likely to fall into place. And to stick.  

So my only “resolution” for 2015 is to carry-over what I’ve learned last year.  That’ll be enough work.

What about you?  What have you learned last year?