Twenty years later…

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Twenty years ago, a second or a millimetre could have ended my life. I remember the incident like it was yesterday. I was watching my Mom break the ends off of beans when one of my best friends called asking if I wanted to go for a drive. At the time we thought we were so smart, but I’m sure my parents noticed the heavy scent of perfume hiding a faint smell of cigarettes whenever I returned. Or the quick “Hi Mom, Hi Dad!” as I ran upstairs to change my clothes before acting like I was an angel.

 

I waited for her to pick me up and we did our usual country road run. There were five of us in total, I was sat behind the driver’s seat. As we came up over a hill, I said, “Look! There’s Amy!” who at the time was a friend of mine and not such a friend of the driver’s. She asked me, “Where?” but by the time she looked, we were going down the hill and the symmetric rows of beautiful green corn stalks were obscuring her vision.  We came to a T in the road. It’s a country road after all, no one drives on here! We were distracting her and as she wasn’t expecting a car, yielded and the next thing I remember is waking up in absolute agony.

 

The two girls in the front turned around looking shocked. I could hear them talking amongst themselves, but the pain was so intense all I could do was scream and beg for them to help me. I tried to move and couldn’t. I started panicking. I asked the girl next to me if she was ok, she was crying and asking what happened. I wanted to get out, but the window was smashed and the door was bent into my side. I couldn’t move my legs. I asked the driver to get me out. She tried pulling up on my shoulder’s (obviously forgot the first aid we were taught!!) and I screamed in pain telling her to stop. I lost consciousness. I woke up vaguely when they were taking the girl next to me out. I remember because she was screaming and I didn’t want the same fate. I heard the Emergency services talking to me but I could barely respond. I don’t remember being taken out of the car and for that I’m grateful.

 

I woke up in the ambulance with an oxygen mask on my face. The EMT was telling me that he was sorry, but they had to do a full body examination which meant cutting off my clothes. I was just worried I would never walk again. I asked him if I was paralysed. He told me to move my toe. I couldn’t feel it, I started panicking. He assured me that my toe was moving and I would walk again (to this day I don’t know if that was a lie!). I was in and out of consciousness during the ambulance ride. I remember the sirens, I remember bumps in the road, I remember the comforting voices and touch of the staff that were in the ambulance with me.

 

I had lost a part of my memory as I thought that my parents were still on holiday although I had been at home with them half an hour before.  I called my sister and told her what happened. Meanwhile my poor parents received a call from the police saying there had been an accident and they didn’t know which hospital I went to. I’m sure they suffered the same gravity of emotional turmoil that I was experiencing physically. All I remember in the hospital was my sister’s scared and concerned face, nice nurses, a horrible Doctor who was yelling at me to stop screaming, being lifted from one bed to the next, the pain, the agony, please give me something, “No we can’t. We don’t know the extent of your injuries yet.” Drifting in and out of consciousness, the bright lights, the dark x-ray rooms, the relief when the pain medication was administered, the comfort of my Mother’s hand and the reassurance of my Dad’s voice…

 

The Doctor told me I was lucky. I had broken my pelvis in three places, my sacrum in two and punctured my bladder. No paralysis and they expected a full recovery, albeit with complications in later life (starting from my 40’s). He said if I was wearing a seatbelt, chances are I would not have made it out alive…

 

I think anyone hearing they have essentially escaped death has a deep and profound reaction. I was only 18 at the time and thought I was invincible. Well, I was!! I escaped death!! So I went crazier than I already was. Still disobeying my parents, who were changing their lifestyle to cope with caring for someone who couldn’t walk for six weeks. Disobeying Doctor’s orders. Of course I can walk! I’m only 18, I heal fast, I’m invincible. It can’t be any worse. I went to University only seven short weeks later. I was still on crutches and had to ask for my bed to be on the floor because I couldn’t climb up the stairs of the traditional loft bed. I went on a path of self-destruction that luckily never ended in destruction as much as I tried. I have always been surrounded by immense love from my family and beautiful caring friends. They always rescued me before I went too far.

 

Then the complications started… But I was only 27, please no! At one point it got so bad I could only walk 20 meters before I would stop to rest, often crying with frustration. I was living in England at the time and after waiting months and months for specialists through the NHS, my then boyfriend decided it was time to buy private health insurance in an attempt to try and ease my constant pain. I couldn’t sleep, I was popping prescription pain killers like they were sweets, taking valium as much as I could without gathering suspicion from Doctors and my personality had totally changed. What’s the point of living if I have the body of a 90 year old? I started to accept this was how I was going to be and that I could either spend the rest of my life being upset or fight and find a way to make life worth living whether I had pain or not.

 

That I did! Luckily the private health insurance got me in touch with top specialists who discovered the problem in a month and after a few months of treatment, I was able to walk long distances again. It wasn’t only until then that I really valued my legs, the freedom to walk, to move and to get things when I want. I can’t say I was exceptionally lazy before this point, but I’m the first one to get up and offer something and unless I’m ill, I don’t like to ask anyone to do or get things for me. I know first hand the ability to move is a gift given to us that can just as easily be taken away. This is something I never forget and at the end of my yoga practice, I always hug my knees into my chest and kiss my knees saying thank you. I may not have the perfect body, but it’s a body that allows me to move and dance and jump and feel good. To me, that’s a perfect body. Funny enough, since I started doing yoga regularly, any of the residual pain I had is gone. It only comes back if I don’t practice for a few days. Maybe the NHS should refer patients to yoga while they wait for specialists!

 

As I sit here writing this twenty years on, I know that I didn’t put that seatbelt on for a reason (other than I would’ve looked like the biggest loser ev-a). I was meant to be here and subconsciously, maybe that’s why I’ve always made ‘crazy’ or what I like to call, alternative, life choices. I move countries a lot, I travel often, I have had numerous romantic relationships and I change things if I’m not happy. This incident often pops up in my mind when I’m facing a struggle. I think, “Is it worth it?” Tomorrow something could happen that could end my life or drastically change it. This could make someone live in fear or live life to the fullest. I chose the latter because life is meant to be lived, is it not? I just want to make sure I experience as much of it as I can before I go, and what a hell of a ride it has been so far!

 

I am grateful for this day and each year I celebrate it. I’m grateful we all made it out alive, I’m grateful we are all able to walk and I’m grateful that it taught me how to live as though each day could be my last.

A bit of yoga magic

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Well that was really interesting. I wrote my previous blog as we were cruising down the river. To be honest, Captain Dink was making comments throughout that writing which were really irritating me and helping give me some practice to repeat my newfound mantra over and over.

 

CD asked me to take over steering so that he could phone a marina. I’ve been steering nearly every day for the last two weeks so I’m not a novice. I haven’t driven down a river since I was a child and of course the rules are very different to sea rules, but there are some things that are common sense and related.  Anyway, we were going down river in a very fast current. I was steering rather well, or so I thought. Of course I was going a bit drunk like because it was the first time I had been in current so strong in this boat, but there were no other boats so I was ok. CD puts the phone down and says, “Jesus Christ! What have you been doing? You’re going to turn the boat sideways and then we’re going to lose all control and crash into the riverbank.” I found this quite dramatic since at no point was I steering the boat any more than 20 degrees off to one side. He came barrelling over, grabbed the wheel from my hand and corrected us, or should I say overcorrected us with his unnecessary panic.

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I calmly said that I was doing what he taught me to do yesterday and that if there was a new technique, can he please show me with patience as I’m still learning. I said there was no need to swear. His response was that he never swears and when I said, “Jesus Christ,” he said, “That’s not a swear word.” I remained silent. Then the cook/stew came up and sat next to me. I started telling her how I read the oven manual and am now an expert in Miele ovens so I will show her what I learned. I was looking straight ahead and not at her. At the same time I saw a huge barge coming in the other direction, CD said in a very angry aggressive tone, “Ok. Now there’s a big barge coming…” He didn’t finish because I interrupted him and said that he makes me very nervous when I’m driving because he has to comment on every little thing I do or don’t do. He started arguing with me saying that if he can’t say anything to me, there’s no point in me driving. I explained calmly (for I still had my yoga glow going) that he can simply say, “Do you see the boat coming?” or tell me to move to a different side of the river. I was already as far over as I could be, so really there was no need to panic and talk aggressively.

 

He stood up and said, “Ok, I’m going to take over.” I replied, “As you wish.” I sat for a few minutes and then explained to him that I may never have been a river barge driver before, but I worked on charters where I was steering in a busy channel with 15 people around asking me questions. I said I can see a big barge coming my way because I am paying attention as I was looking forward, not at who I was talking to. I told him that he is very aggressive when he tells me things and that it’s unnecessary. Before he could say anything, I said, “And I know you’re going to say you’re not aggressive, but you are.” Then I finished by saying, “or since this job is for only two more months, maybe I should just shut my mouth and deal with it.”

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Captain Dink remained in silence for hours, only talking when necessary during a manoeuvre.

 

I was starting to feel quite bad about my conversation and internalised it thinking maybe it’s me that just needs to chill out. That’s his personality so instead of trying to change it, I should just keep on working on ways to deflect negative energy. He’s not coming to me as a psychologist, so I should just keep my opinion to myself and find my own way of managing his at times very disrespectful behaviour. I quickly negated that thinking because actually he treats everyone that way and it would help him make friends if he could see his own behaviour.

 

Then the weirdest thing happened. When I asked him if he wanted the line on the port or starboard side, he paused a while then said, “Sorry, I had to think a minute which side was which.” I smiled and stopped myself from hugging him. That was the first time he had ever shown any vulnerability. It got weirder… He asked us what we were doing for dinner. If we were going to eat out or eat in. I said, “I don’t know, what do you think?” He said very timidly with a slight smile, “Oh no! Don’t do that. Answer a question with a question.” I laughed and said, “I said I don’t know first, isn’t that an answer?” He smiled and we all had a discussion about what we wanted to do.  The cook/stew and I exchanged a surprised glance. For the first time in a week, we all ate dinner together. For the first time since we started working together, we had a conversation where he didn’t one up the story and he actually asked questions. If I didn’t believe in yoga before, I sure do now!!

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CD asked us if we wanted to go for a drink that evening. I was waiting for a phone call and on the laptop with my Dad trying to recover my external hard drive which suddenly became unreadable (and has 12 years of photos). I said that I would just finish up what I was doing and I would be ready to go.  With a sad look, he said he would go there and sit by himself. The boat was parked on the same dock as the restaurant so he went down and shouted up to us, “Hey, if I’m not back by midnight, just toss a blanket down!” He looked so vulnerable and nervous. I explained to my Dad that I would really like to go so maybe we could do the recovery later.  At the same time I was writing that message, I received the expected phone call. I had a quick chat and went to the bar with the cook/stew to meet him.

 

The three of us had a nice evening together. He was still sharing his stories, but they had a different light to them. He was listening to our stories and asking questions. He was even bent over with laughter at one point. Any guilty feelings I had disappeared. This is exactly what life is about. Sometimes people are so lost they don’t know how to, or can’t, ask for help. Some don’t want it and it’s not worth the energy. That’s ok, eventually they will find their way. But as human beings, it’s our responsibility to stand up for our right to be treated with respect, show kindness to others no matter how they treat us and give some people a different perspective that may just help make bring some more peace to their lives.  

A yoga experiment

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I’ve been reading and meditating on an ancient scripture I still can’t spell, despite looking at it every day, called Vasistha’s Yoga (at least I think that’s the spelling, I’m too lazy to get up and check it). When I used to ask my Mom about things that were told to us in Church or Religious Education that I didn’t believe, she would sometimes say that it was in the Bible if I wanted to read it. I tried once because my sister was reading it, but I didn’t understand the language and found it boring so I just gave up!

 

Vasistha’s Yoga has become my Bible. I refer to it when I have questions about the yogic way of living.  The more I read, the more questions I have and funny enough, they’re all slowly starting to get answered the further along I get in the book. This is quite a round about introduction to a question I have right now.  How not to let other people’s negativity effect me.  I have some friends and loved ones who don’t seem to get rattled by such people and yet sometimes a touch from a very negative person can set me off balance and change my mood for the whole day, or every time they’re in my presence.  If you ever wondered why I want to live on the sea- I mean in the middle of the sea – that is the main reason why.

 

Let me explain my current situation.  In laymen’s terms, the Captain of this boat is a complete and total dickhead. In yogic terms, he is one of two types of lost souls.  One that is far away from reaching enlightenment with a heap of bad karma to work through or a soul in the middle where with patience and some guidance, he may find a lighter path.  I haven’t been around him long enough to see which one he is, but as a yogi, it is my place to give him a chance.  

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I have done my psychoanalysis on him (Captain Cool was right, I can never stop being a psychologist) which has led me to believe that his behaviour is a result of a certain life that is quite sad and I could try to show some empathy. Sometimes I can feel empathy in my heart and my kindness is genuine.  The other 98% of the time, I have to take a deep breath before I go up with a smile on my face and say in a kind voice, “Would you like a cup of coffee?” Because what I would really like to say is, “Fuck you. You think we’re your maids you can treat like shit. Get your own damn coffee.” I then receive a response of “yes please” or no with the same droned on boring explanation that never changes.  I speedily make my way downstairs to do an eye roll to the cook or just to myself if she’s not around. If I have to make the coffee, numerous thoughts of spitting in it or putting in other unpleasant things go through my mind. Then the yogi steps in and reminds me we’re all on a path, some have it more difficult than others and the only way forward is to treat everyone with kindness or ignore them as the Scriptures of Putanjali suggest.

 

Sadly I can’t ignore him because he’s my boss. He is bullying the cook/stew, part of which includes giving me certain privileges she doesn’t have (which I don’t do once I discover them) and it just makes for a terrible environment. I often feel like I’m in middle school and have to change my strategy on a daily basis in order to stay sane and out of the middle of this nonsense behaviour. They spent two days not talking to each other. Yesterday I had a conversation with the cook about how people like him don’t have fuel when people are kind to them or just reply ok without discussion. I guess it worked because today she said good morning to him.

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I’m using the yoga scriptures to find a way to protect myself from this negative energy that I seem to have been ultra sensitive to since I can remember. I’ve seen a few shamans who have all told me that I hold other people’s negative energy and they see it inside of me. Sadly they haven’t told me how to get rid of it. I guess that means I have to discover it for myself. *sigh* I suspect my stomach problems are partially related to it as well since I seem to be able to eat more things without getting pins and needles when I’m in a good environment. As you can guess, I’m not only battling with how to manage the behaviour of Captain Dink, I’m also having to manage my stomach which as I write this, is in agony. Luckily the cook is very caring and wants to help so she is making me what I request. Sadly this means she cooks three separate meals because she wants something with more flavour than what I can eat and she doesn’t want to eat the processed food that Captain Dink eats. She’s a saint.

 

I keep digressing, how unusual… Anyway, I’ve wondered how people can become enlightened and still live in this world because people are annoying. Not everyone, but there are always some people in our paths who press buttons. Put simply, Vasistha says that the soul is contained in a physical body with a mental capsule and it will react how it wants to through laughters, tears and anger. Yes my readers, that means that even enlightened people show emotion and get irritated! The basis is that in the soul nothing is changed, the soul remains grounded and knows that this will pass and that indeed nothing is reality. We are just creating reality ourselves so why bother staying in any state whether it’s pleasant or unpleasant?

 

The other morning during my delightful two hour yoga and mediation practice, I pondered this notion of protecting myself because I want to run from this boat. Actually I’m seriously thinking about going back to Colombia and working with Captain Cool again. The money is half the amount, but so is the work and I get to spend time with someone who I am discovering is not only a soulmate, but one of the truest loves I’ve ever had in this life. However, I do have a tendency to run when things get difficult, as you may have noticed. People say life isn’t meant to be fun, well, I disagree with that so if I’m unhappy, I change my circumstances. Sure new challenges come up, but look at my life!! I wouldn’t change a thing.

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Back to the point… While I was in a focused state, an image of a white ball with pointy rays of light emerged from my chest and I felt so strong and so free. I imagined this ball encapsulating me and that the white rays were radiating positive energy, kindness and love to those who were willing to receive it.  The pointy bits burst all of the negative energy so it couldn’t touch my heart. With a somewhat quiet mind, I focused on this imagery and when a thought about Captain Dink popped up, I would use the white light to poke the negative energy and replace it with positive energy. I felt great. I felt like I was ready to face the demon!

 

Half an hour later that feeling was washed down the river when he shouted at me with impatience to take off a line I was trying to take off, but was stuck on the dock and the boat was too far for me to jump off without swimming to clear it. *sigh* Oh well. I found a new strategy so I guess it will take some practice to get it working.

 

This job is only until the middle or end of September so really I shouldn’t run from this. Don’t get me wrong, it’s very intense living with such a heavy ball of negative energy 24-7.  But I can use this as a lesson because there are always people who pop my chilled yoga bubble and quite frankly, I’m tired of giving other people so much power. It’s time to take the power back and use my energy to radiate positivity and kindness instead of using it to fight off negativity. Wish me luck…

 

    

 

Finding that peaceful place

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The other night I was sat on the boat getting a new perspective of Palma since we are up high on the dry dock, and I noticed a beautiful old city on the horizon. A horizon which is within walking distance and always has been. I finished my evening meal and decided that Sunday was going to be spent exploring.

 

As I walked through the narrow medieval old streets, seeing Palma in a new light, I realised that I was so busy not liking the city, that I didn’t even try to find something I liked. That was so unlike me. Normally I see new places with open eyes and find lots of little things I like. I spent two weeks here with the catamaran and I only went to the places that were around the marina we were in or wherever my crew mates wanted to go. I really enjoyed twisting and turning through the narrow streets, looking at the buildings, taking photos and imagining what life must’ve been like when this was first built. There were so many flowers, lots of bright purple which seems to be the flower colour of the Mediterranean. It’s beautiful and really stands out against the clay coloured buildings.

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I came up to a really old Church tucked away in a corner of the old city. There was no one in that street. I could hear the TV of one of the flats echoing through the tunnel the narrow street created. As I entered the courtyard, I saw an old man quietly talking to someone in a car which was parked in front of the church. They were too involved in conversation to notice I was there so I quietly sneaked in to the Church. Ahhh….a deafening silence. I stood there for a moment breathing in the musty smell that old churches have and letting my eyes adjust to the darkness. It was a hot day, yet the Church was nice and cool. I tip toed to the nearest bench in the back and involuntarily took a deep breath. Then the tears just started flowing. I didn’t even know they were there.

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Religion has always been very important to my family, so I went to a Catholic school, mass 1-2 times a week and religious education classes when I switched schools. I hated it. I didn’t understand why anyone could want to be a part of this.  To me every second of being in a Church was pure torture. I had to sit and listen and just be quiet. Then I had to go to confession once a month and confess my sins – a list that never varied because I wasn’t ever going to tell the truth of what I really did!! Not only that, but it was full of rules. Those who are close to me know that any rules I’m given will be purposely broken as soon as I can manage it. Give me freedom and I flourish.

 

I don’t know how my Mom put up with it, but she was persistent. Years and years and years of fighting to get me up and going to Church every single Sunday. I would argue, say horrible things about her faith and make up excuses of why I couldn’t go.  The only response I got was, “When you turn 17 and have your confirmation, you can make your own decision, but while you are still a child in God’s eyes, you will go to Church. ” I must’ve started the countdown when I was three years old!! Sure enough, I had my confirmation and that was the last time I went to Church on a weekly basis.

 

I haven’t found the Catholic faith, but I’ve found the yoga philosophy. I quite like it because it has general guidelines of how to live life that I can interpret and incorporate into my life in my own way. This suits me much better! Now I’m grateful that my Mom stuck with the fight, because I get it. It wasn’t until a few years ago when I was saying in the teenage voice, “Do I have to go to Church with you on Christmas???” when my Mom said, “It’s my peaceful place and if you don’t want to be there, it won’t be peaceful. I’m not going to make anyone go who doesn’t want to be there.” It all the sudden made sense. She wasn’t trying to stick the religion down my throat, she was trying to teach me that we all need a peaceful place where we can go to when we need to breath, feel comfort, cry or just be. Sounds like something I believe in… What a beautiful gift she gave me. I’m sure she’s happy that her efforts were fruitful, even though it was years and many battles later.

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For me, that place can be my yoga mat depending on where it is. I have had many a breakdown on my mat.  I have spent lonely times sat in child’s pose for extended periods of time focusing on my breathing and feeling some comfort from my mat and the earth below it. However as yoga has no temple to speak of, I discovered that churches can give me that peace too.  

 

When I went travelling, my boyfriend at the time broke up with me over email and I was devastated. I was sharing a room with three strangers and had nowhere to breakdown. I wandered around the city with my sunglasses on hiding the tears. Then I stumbled upon a church and thought that was a good place to cry. So I went in and just sobbed. That was the first time I went into a church without hating it and feeling as though I was going to instantaneously burst into flames due to my sinful ways. It was so quiet, calming and had a warm energy. It became my go to place when I was feeling lonely, sad or lost whilst on my travels.

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Actually, recently, a good friend of mine reminded me of that fact when I was feeling down and lost. She suggested I go there to find some comfort. I was drawn to that church on Sunday. This lifestyle can be very lonely at times and I’m really feeling it at the moment. Stepping into that Church reminded me I’m not alone and that all I have to do is trust and keep going. It also gave me that space to have a moment to not be ok. Something I don’t always do when I’m in new situations because I “must be strong!” I thanked the space for giving me comfort and walked out feeling much lighter and dare I say, with a gentle smile on my newly relaxed face…

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Making dreams come true

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My heart goes out to people who look at me and tell me that I’m lucky to have my life. They must truly believe that they don’t have the same choices I have or that they don’t have control over their life. They are really missing out on their full potential.

 

I do have a good life. It’s not necessarily the life everyone wants, but some people envy the freedom and lack of responsibility I have. Guess what? I’m not lucky, I made choices to be in my position. They weren’t always easy choices, I didn’t always have the agreement of my family, but I made them and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

Since accepting the job on a motor yacht back in February, I have received a few messages from friends saying they admire my ability to take risks. I love taking risks because every time I have, something incredible has come out of it. Whether it’s meeting an incredible new person or going on some cool adventure, something positive is always the result.

 

On the surface I appear to be excited and ready to jump with both feet forward, but to tell you the truth, the inside isn’t like that. My close friends will tell you. They will ask me how I am or if I’m ready and most of the time the response is, “I’m scared shitless and I don’t know how to be ready, so I’m just going to go for it because it always works out.” I normally have one or two days of sheer panic that someone close to me will hear about and have to comfort me and remind me of all the risks I took before and how they worked out. I will have personal moments of wondering if this is really a stupid thing to do and if I’m mentally stable.

 

Then I just close my eyes and jump. Sometimes I land on my bum first and have to wait for the bruise to go away, sometimes I have to turn around and go back but most of the time a beautiful story develops. The end result is that I always end up on my feet, exactly where I’m supposed to be. I’ve been all over the world, I’ve met incredible people, locals and other travellers that have touched my heart forever. I have experienced living in other cultures, I have seen the night sky in the middle of the Atlantic. I have known what it’s like to love numerous people. I have learned how to deal with heart break, ending relationships and moving on. I have found my place in the world. To wander free and endlessly like the beautiful waves that are crashing over the side of the boat and threatening to soak my computer!

 

The point is, we all have choices. Maybe we don’t like some of those choices and it prevents us from doing what we want to do now. That’s ok, just modify the plan to suit your current lifestyle. Dreams can always come true if you truly want them to become reality.

Return to the sea

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Ahhhhhh….. I can finally breathe again! I see nothing around me except blue, blue and more blue. My shoulders have fallen away from my ears, the crease in between my eyebrows has disappeared and a gentle smile fills my face at all times. Yes, I’m back on the open sea. I’m home and I’m totally in my element. Probably because I can feel all of the elements. The wind slightly burning my face, the sun warming my already sun kissed body, the sea giving me gentle kisses as it occasionally sprays up over the bow and into the cockpit, the rain rinsing the damage from my time in St Maarten and the clouds offering me protection from sunburn. I am totally at one with nature and with myself.

 

As I said earlier, I lost myself in St Maarten and I hadn’t met anyone to help pull me out. Five days before my contract with my boat was up, I really started to panic about what was going to happen next. I took some time out to do a long yoga practice as the sun rose over the beautiful mountains in front of the marina. I called their grounding energy and I asked my angels to help me. I asked them for a boat crossing the Atlantic to Palma so that I could get on the sea again and try to look for sailboat work there. The next day I woke up as usual and started working with little enthusiasm, counting down the days until I was done, while at the same time calming my panic. Around 10 am, I checked my phone and received this message, “Hi Sarah. We’re crossing the Atlantic from St Maarten to Palma on the 30th of April. Are you interested in going?” My heart skipped a beat, I looked up to the universe, smiled and said, “Thank you!!” I replied asking where he was and if we could meet. It didn’t really matter. I already knew I was going. I had a good feeling and it was the answer to my calling.

 

I met the Captain and the crew who all seemed so nice, laidback and friendly. The Captain said, “You seem cool, so if you’re up for it, come join us.” I smiled and said, “I’m definitely up for it. Thank you so much.” This is day three and it has been amazing. We all get along well, have fun together, yet respect each other’s space. The boat is big so there is plenty of space. I have my own cabin and am living in luxury. I have a huge waterfall shower, a double bed, I’m cooked for, someone does my washing and they would clean my cabin if I allowed them to, but I won’t. Did I mention I get paid? Yes, this is definitely the life for me!!

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The first two days were a bit rough emotionally. I didn’t feel like speaking to anyone. I just wanted to speak to my true life partner, the sea. We had some chats, she soothed my soul and gave me faith in myself again. With each sleep (and I slept a lot the first two days!!), I felt stronger physically and emotionally. Today, I stayed awake and got to know the crew who are such interesting people. The universe clearly brought us all together for a reason because we have so many common threads. I think we will definitely be helping each other out in the future. The boat is beautiful, a huge catamaran that dances nicely with the sea. A lot smoother than I thought. I took her off autopilot today and steered for a while to see how she moves, wow she really loves the wind. I hardly had to move the wheel at all. I was and still am in heaven.

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I seemed to have caged that crazy monkey again that was running around my brain.  It’s great because I have a whole new journey ahead of me. I will get to Palma with no job, no place to stay, but with all the anticipation and excitement a new journey brings. And the next time that crazy monkey escapes, I know how to tame him….

The man on the plane

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Have you ever seen that movie where girl sit nexts to guy on a plane and they start talking and live happily ever after? Well, my life is a movie. The happily ever after hasn’t happened, nor do I think it will, but I do have my own romantic plane story. It happened on my way from London to St Maarten and was on the Paris to St Maarten lag.

 

I walked up to aisle 39 and was happy to see that the aisle seat next to me was empty. I used to pray that a hot guy would sit next to me so that we could fall in love and have babies, but I had long since give up that dream when no one interesting ever sat next to me on the hundreds of flights I’ve taken. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a guy place his bag on the seat next to me. I carried on being busy on a phone that was already off and he said, “Bonjour.” I had my initial knee jerk reaction of eye rolling and thinking, “Oh god, here, we go. Just don’t talk to me.”  Then I looked at him and he smiled a really kind and big smile and some butterflies appeared in my stomach as I flashed my pearly whites back at him and said, “Bonjour.” I sussed him out from the corner of my eye. After all, I was sat in sailor class, so he could be a sailor. I looked at his bag, he was definitely an outdoors man, but his clothes didn’t really say sailor. However, his longish wild hair and strong hands suggested maybe he was. I wasn’t sure what language he spoke. I couldn’t see the book he had tucked in the seat pocket, so I had a little look over his shoulder while he sent some text messages. Ah, Spanish!! Perfect!

 

Then I saw that he was writing to a woman and he was sorry he didn’t get a chance to call her before we left, but he loved her. Damn, always the way. So I put my head back and closed my eyes hoping to sleep the whole flight since I had such an early start to get to the airport.

 

After a little sleep, I opened my eyes and after 10 minutes he asked me in English why I was going to St Maarten. I told him I had just gotten my first job in the yachting industry on a motor yacht, although sailboats were really my thing.  He told me that he was going to race on a sailboat. I sighed out of jealousy and asked him about his job.  He has my ideal life. He recently bought his own sailboat and does delivery and race crew work for money. PERFECT!!!! He said he could help me find work if it didn’t work out with the motor yacht. It’s all about connections. I started thinking maybe it wasn’t so bad if I was a bit more outgoing, even on a plane.

 

I was actually really sleepy so after a chat, I got comfortable. Cliche, but true, our arms were touching on the armrest between us. I felt a warm electric shock running through my body and thought, “Oh Wow! It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this kind of energy connection with anyone.” I slept off and on, he always got me a drink or held my food tray for me if I was sleeping or in the bathroom. One time I woke up and he was sleeping so I positioned myself to be a little more cosy to him.  I could feel the warmth of his positive energy seering into my body as our lower backs and arms touched. It felt like a drug and I couldn’t get enough. In a sleepy state, I could feel him move and snuggle closer into me. I wanted to turn around and snuggle into his chest, but I restrained myself.

 

I could go on and on about the little romantic moments we shared in that oh so short 8 hour flight, but I’m sure some of you are already about to be sick, so I will just share one more. He was born in France, but spent a lot of time in St Martin so he knew the area very well. He was pointing out to me the islands as we passed them, which involved him leaning over me to point out the window. His face was so close, I could feel the warmth of his breath. I stopped listening to what he was saying because I was just willing him to turn his head and start kissing me. My heart was racing and I was so sad the flight was about to be over.

 

After we got off the plane, we ran ahead of everyone as he told me the immigration line queues up quickly and can take hours. We exchanged numbers as we waited for our luggage. I didn’t get any signal on my phone, so he waited outside with me to make sure I was ok. I realised I knew the name of the boat, but not the marina where I was staying. After a slight panic, I saw who I thought was the Captain and waved at him. I gave the plane man a big hug and thanked him for everything. As I ran off into the warm suffocating heat of the Caribbean he shouted, “I’ll message you!” I smiled and waved thinking, “Yeah right, that will never happen.”

 

I went on the boat, met everyone and settled in. I turned on wifi and received this message, “Thanks so much for the nice chat on the plane. I really wanted to kiss you.” I smiled a huge smile and squealed. It was a two way thing after all!!

 

As I said in the beginning, who knows if I will ever see him again (although we’ve had occasional contact in the last two months and he’s sailing his boat to Palma, where I am, at the moment…) or how the story will end. If nothing else, I take it as a beautiful message from the universe to remind me to always enjoy the moment and look forward. At that time, I had been pining for Captain Cool, thinking how nice it would be if I was flying to a job with him instead of with some strangers I had only spoken to for 15 minutes on the phone.  After I met the man on the plane and felt the spark, I was comforted that everything will be ok. There is no reason to feel sad that the chapter with CC has ended, but that I should be grateful the chapter existed. I learned how to sail, I learned so much about the sea and I learned how to love and live on a boat. These are all important lessons I will use in the future. Why be sad about them? The memories will not leave me and will always give me a smile. Whether it’s with the man on the plane, a different sailor or alone, the best way to live life is to keep walking with a smile and open eyes. I needed that reminder and for that, I’m grateful for that gift I received from the man on the plane.