I am a woman who loves beauty and fun. I sail, read, play games, learn instruments (piano, flute, ukulele, tin whistle, Scottish drums, harmonica), hike, sing, Pickleball, explore, and write. My greatest joy is playing or exploring with my five children and husband. My greatest peace is at the piano or sailing. At the center and surrounding it all is my Savior Jesus Christ.
“Take me home where I belong.” Where is that for you? Is it a place or a people? Is it intrinsically linked between the two? We are all home on this earth. It’s a wide, wide earth, spanning oceans and mountain ranges, rolling plains and hot deserts. People, different cultures, laughter, tears, joy. The more one moves, the larger home becomes. A connection with the way of living life. Look up to the stars. Gaze on the same moon, shimmering across the waters, dancing among the trees. The birds will sing, the wind will blow. We are home. Searching to see… home.
So I learned to sail in Hawaii. One of my earlier posts explains my first introduction to sailing. It was a day that forever changed my life and the way I see things. It drew me to adventure, to the athleticism of small boat sailing, to the mental strategy of the game. I still day dream of those days. Rapid learning, tangible rewards of analyzing my skills or lack thereof, phenomenal instructors and incredible comrade sailors.
Today, I came across some notes that I took after I dropped in on a class taught at a location that resembled lake sailing. I had been sailing for about nine months, mostly practicing my Laser skills.
******************************************************************************************* "LOVED IT!!! 17-20 KNOTS 4.7 sail - another student opted to take a radial, which proved a challenge. Gusty! - I experimented with the outhaul while sailing upwind... definitely more power with it eased, and it sure was tough to bring in after easing while sailing upwind. - Tight roundings and a couple of great starts! Seven racers - I came in first for the first race (second place had a tough jibe rounding) and perhaps also first on the second race, but it was too close for me to call. - Easing the downhaul going downwind seemed to help a bit with stability and control. - Tightening the vang as I approached the downwind buoy definitely helped provide a tighter rounding up toward the wind. I even managed to round the upwind buoy with having to tack, although I should have because then I would have gotten more speed. - On the way to the docks, I was smiling and just looking around, listening to the boat "talking" just to me. I got on a beautiful line and loved sailing into the marina! - It turns out everyone else except one person thought it was a super difficult day... hmmm... I had not idea... I apparently didn't see all the capsized boats (eight times for one of the students!). It makes me want to hang back next time and see if I can tell what their challenge is... - On the class photo page, today's instructor responded to a comment about our group looking like a great group. "They're dialing up their game for sure." That is high praise coming from him!" *******************************************************************************************
This was the first point where I realized I truly had learned a lot about handling a Laser. I could face 17-20 knots sustained winds and feel like I had sailed a fun course. I felt the wind and the shifts, saw the puffs and adjusted my sails. “Ease, hike, trim.” I had learned how to adjust the vang, downhaul, and outhaul. It is almost like a formula, changing the controls of the boat provide more control in the boat, but it is a formula that is much more intricate than I realized.
Taking notes like these helped me process what worked and didn’t work. I craved knowledge of this new sport I found. I still crave it.
So I began this website because I needed a writing challenge. I have thought about writing for a few years, having homeschooled my children and walked them through many writing assignments. I was a dedicated journaler as a child and young adult and am a firm believer in the power of the written word, both for the author and the reader.
I reached a point where I grew tired of writing simply for myself. It’s too easy to become naval (belly button) focused when journaling, at least for me it is. I love conversations and sharing ideas with people, so even though this reader base is not very large (honestly, I’m not a huge promoter of myself – haha), this website is still a chance to express thoughts and ideas to a people beyond myself. A chance to practice writing and see what happens.
So I gave myself a 365 day challenge… I will pick up the keyboard and type out some thoughts for at least ten minutes a day on whatever topic springs to mind. It has sparked my brain into thinking about life a little differently.
It is a little scary, putting my thoughts out there on the internet. I have heard of blog trolls. What if my writing stinks? What if I am disappointed with myself? But, you know what, if it’s as simple as writing for just ten minutes a day, I really can’t have too high of expectations, can I? Practice makes better, they say.
So I leave you with this thought about embracing the scary, the unknown… This is something I wrote in January of 2024 regarding sailing, but I think it applies very well to anything new.
“It’s easy to be afraid, at least for some of us. So many what if’s… what if this or that happens? We want to be in control, to know the next step, to have assurances that things will go well. But what if… we just go for it? Live it. Experience things over and over again and something fantastic happens?! What if we fall in love with something that intimidated us before but suddenly draws us in, beckoning us to return?
This is the sea, this is sailing for me. Sailing… I cry to think of saying good-bye. I’m not ready, not yet. I’m just getting to know you. Help me embrace the future You have for me, Lord. I love sailing so much.”
It was scary to fall for something so heavily as I fell for sailing. It is scary for me to pour my thoughts and experiences into a website. I had to leave the beautiful turquoise waters where I learned to sail, the comfort of the community there. I am learning to sail in different waters, and, you know what, I am growing. It is painful at times and there is still a sense of loss, but God has a plan. And I trust He has a plan as I give my fingers to this investment of ten minutes (although really it is more like thirty minutes at least) to practicing putting my thoughts into writing.
So to all of you who join me in this writing challenge, whether reading here or writing yourself, thank you. There is a purpose in all the new things we do, no matter what phase of life we are in. Let’s face the scary and see where it leads…
I once saw a woman playing in the sea. She simply walked up to the water, laid down, and the waves rolled along the sand, tossing and turning her. It was during Covid, and things had just begun opening up a little bit in Waikiki, allowing for a whopping two people to be in a group together. So my husband and I sat on the beach, enjoying our Duke’s takeout from white cardboard boxes, the sun beginning to set on the Pacific turquoise.
And the woman played. Her peaceful abandon of all control allowed the water to gracefully pull her and push her up and down the sand. It was an abandon that invited the letting go of a difficult time, a Covid time. Fear had no place where she lay enjoying the movement of the sea. She played, as a child might, and smiled up at the warm, blue sky.
I think back on that scene and wonder, “How could she just roll with the waves when my tendency is to stick my foot in the sand and stop the movement of time, of wounds, of challenges?” I will learn to roll with the waves. Not just out in the water, but on the shore too. I will keep the desire to play alive through all my days. There is healing in play. There is healing in the water, in the sound of the waves splashing the shore.
Play with abandon, play with precision, play with laughter and beauty and smiles. Come, adults, let us play.
I used to be one to simply enjoy reading great stories, adventure stories with descriptive scenes, mysteries where I chased the main characters across continents and scaled heights to uncover clues. History fascinated me. Stories of people groups and individuals who shaped what is our modern world.
Next came engagement with historical stories from professor talks and discussions with students. Learning these stories became more about learning them with other people around me, bringing to light even more the personalities of people from the past as I interacted with the personalities and heard from the perspectives of my fellow classmates and teachers, listening to how they interpreted these historical figures and events.
Now, I live immersed in the stories of others. Whether I go to Michael’s or take a sailing course, listen on a tour of an academy, or sail on a historic Skipjack, history speaks everywhere. At Michael’s I noticed the name of the cashier, commented on it, and learned about the cashier’s mother and her dream for her children to become a helper of people. In a sailing course, I learned that my instructor loves sailing but is also a musician and desires to invest in a career that will allow more stability for a possible future wife and family. Even as he taught my class the skill of sailing he knows very well, he shared his story with us as well. Three times taking the guided walking tour of the academy nearby opened my eyes to many highlights of the campus and the rich history that lies within its walls, men and women who have graduated from its teaching to become heroes and grand contributors to our country.
Finally, sailing on the historic Wilma Lee took my breath away. A sailboat with a draft of six feet when the centerboard was down and merely three feet when the crew pulled it up. This boat was made for versatility in the Chesapeake Bay. She was an oyster boat, a working boat in her early days. At some point, a man bought her and added sleeping quarters and a modest but ample galley for cooking. Unfortunately he ran out of money, so he could no longer hold onto her. He gave her to the Maritime Museum of Annapolis (amaritime.org), where she sails today, offering tours to young and old.
Tonight I had the opportunity to sail on this beautiful boat, Wilma Lee, with my husband. This was a treat in itself. The beautiful wooden planks adorning her deck, the thick mast ringed with the mainsail. Her bow proudly protruding toward the sea. She sailed magnificently when finally the engine was turned off. We rode on a piece of Chesapeake history. She sang her story as we splashed through the waves, diving into the water and rising with the swell, alongside the racing boats of Wednesday nights in Annapolis. Wilma Lee may not be as shiny new as the X-yachts out there (go Time Machine and Heart of Gold!), but she is a part of the Chesapeake Bay, proudly displaying the Maritime Museum of Annapolis emblem on her sail. We politely stayed out of the wind and way of the competing boats but enjoyed watching from the sidelines as they crossed the start line and then rounded the upwind mark. The commentary from Gary Jobson, world-renowned sailor (https://jobsonsailing.com/), was the icing on the cake. He provided his Olympic-level descriptions of the scenes on the water. As we trailed back to the museum, he shared a few life stories of his own, his history, drawing out the poignancy of tenacity in the face of challenge, the impact of uplifting words, and the ups and downs of life.
As I begin building my photo gallery on this page, you may not see many pictures of people. I prefer to post objects and places because it offers a sense of anonymity and universal application. These objects and places bring memories of people to my mind. People have always and will always be the most motivating part of life to me. My people – my family, friends, coworkers, fellow parents-in-arms – make the world a warm place with laughter and conversation, questions and challenges. I am refined by them, sometimes frustrated, often humbled.
Noun: a usually marked change; a person, thing, or factor having a major or central role, function, or effect; an adjustment or modification made (as to a product, service, or strategy) in order to adapt or improve
Verb: to turn on or as if on a pivot; to adapt or improve by adjusting or modifying something (such as a product, service, or strategy)
~definitions found on Miriam-Webster.com
A cancelled intro to rowing/sculling class, the wrong map directions to take a lighthouse tour, a school bus that blocked my path. Each of these was a roadblock I encountered today, a roadblock to plans I made. Frustration creeps in easily as plans are foiled. However a word persistently whispers in my ear… “pivot.”
The call to pivot. To change direction so as to adapt or improve.
There is a destination that calls me, a goal that dances before me. I see it but cannot aim at it just yet. It remains in the “no sail zone.” Pivot… tack… be willing to sail away from the goal in order to get to the goal.
Pivoting teaches us lessons we were not on the lookout for. It opens doors, introduces people and places. Life is not one straight line. It requires us to change directions both for happy and difficult reasons. Here’s to pivoting with less resistance and more ease, to rolling with the waves of life instead of fighting against them.
Has there ever been a place where I felt more belonging… excitement… intimidation… yet an overwhelming sense of “I can do this”? Two patient, perceptive instructors and seven fellow students equaled an incredible introduction to sailing. Concise instructions gave structure to the ambiguous “sailing theory.” Beginning the day with the whiteboard classroom instruction, moving to sitting in the boat (the Topper) on the dock, then tethered to a rope in the “bathtub”, finally sailing around buoys in the harbor, and ultimately the surprise of sailing out into the open water past the runway to roll on the swells as the boat responded to my hold of the mainsheet and tiller, sails filling with the steady wind. She was my horse and we were in the open range of the seas.
“Sail different waters” … “It’s supposed to be fun” … “There’s only so much learning in the classroom will get you. At some point you have to go out there and learn how to feel the boat.” “Smooth like buttah.”
Words from sailing instructors when I began sailing. I began sailing in September of 2023. I remember the morning well. I was nervous but so very excited. I arrived thirty minutes early, quite unintentionally. So I ended up sitting on a picnic table watching the gorgeous turquoise ocean roll and splash, enjoying the peace and quiet of no kids. This was a step toward regaining my sanity after seven years of homeschooling and several military moves. Just the morning before, I had been selected from a lottery process to participate as a student in a group of volunteer-led sailing classes called the Wet Hens. That wasn’t going to begin until the following Tuesday. My MWR sailing classes were Wednesday and Friday, so next week and for the following month, I would get to sail three times a week!
My gaze drifted upward, to say thank You to God and ask for courage to do something new, and I saw something I had never seen before. A circle rainbow. A huge rainbow circle around the sun. What a sense of peace rolled over me when I saw that. It was going to be an exciting day!
And it was. When 9:30 rolled around, I met my two sailing instructors, one of which I knew from my husband’s work, and my fellow sailing classmates. The one other beginner and I headed to the classroom to receive basic sailing theory instruction while the intermediates gathered their sail gear and chatted jovially. From the beginning, as the sailing instructor welcomed us to the class, I knew this was going to be more than just a class about sailing. Within the classroom, tears began to well up in my eyes. I was crying over sailing theory… it was something new and intellectual, a new mental challenge my mind had been craving. Something I could learn about in a classroom but then immediately go out afterward and put to practical application. Tangible rewards and feedback. I was in the right place! Where had sailing been all my life?!
From the classroom we moved onto the docks where we practiced twenty or so tacks just sitting in the Topper on the dock, holding the mainsheet and moving from side to side, our instructor simulating the movement of the boom over our heads. As my fellow classmate practiced in the grounded boat, I went through the motions on the land, repeating the instructor’s words in my head: “Push the tiller away. Boom crosses over. Center the tiller. Reach for the other side. Take your time exchanging hands with the mainsheet and the tiller.” We also practiced capsizing and righting the boat. That was refreshing. So thankful for the gorgeous blue waters of Hawaii! Next was sailing on a tether within the “bathtub” area, protected by the dock and Foster Point. I felt so clumsy and unable to control the boat. It was, honestly, quite frustrating but great at the same time. I had not expected to be a rockstar right off the bat anyway. My body just needed to get used to what it needed to do.
We ended the day by returning to the classroom for a summary of what we learned and a debrief of what we experienced. Both my classmate and I laughed at our first attempt at sailing, but our supportive instructor encouraged us that it was just the beginning. More time in the boat would help. “There’s only so much learning in the classroom will get you. At some point you have to go out there and learn how to feel the boat.” So I drove home, thrilled to be on my way to learning how to sail and chomping at the bit for the next sailing lesson!
After I had been sailing for three months, three days a week for the first month, one day a week the second month, and two days a week the third month, I hit a bit of a wall mentally and emotionally. Here is what I wrote:
“Sailing is life” continues… at the beginning, as things clicked, I really felt like I was starting to know what I was doing. Now, even though I have a little more sailing under my belt and have been introduced to more pieces of the sailing puzzle (i.e. racing kit for the Laser), I somehow feel I know less. I have entered a zone of doubting myself and making mistakes and feeling frustrated. Gone is the free sensation of accomplishing the basic principles and not capsizing a boat. How do I return to that open, exhilarating experience? Where do I turn to rediscover the freedom and confidence? Is this the land of the “intermediate” or perhaps I’m more of an advanced beginner? I need new skills to navigate this terrain.
Life is like that too, isn’t it? Starting a new job/relationship/move can feel exciting and refreshing at the beginning, but everything slows down at some point and becomes a bit more tedious, frustrating, humdrum in a way, if only because it loses the newness part of the experience. When it becomes tempting to want to walk away, or to not care as much, that is when we are supposed to stick with it, isn’t it? That’s when things really have a potential to affect us and change us. Dive in, give more, learn from those tiresome mistakes, seek further assistance to strengthen understanding, embrace the fact that there is so much more to learn and never stop asking questions to improve.
I continued to take lessons twice a week and sail at every other opportunity provided, often averaging three sails a week. My time in Hawaii drew to a close, and I am happy to say that by the end of it, I had sailed over one hundred days on the water.
—— I wrote this over a year ago, this story of how sailing entered my life. I give credit to other instructors, women and men, who have taught me so much in a very short time, but it is to these two instructors that I owe my true understanding of sailing. I’m sure I will share more lessons I learned from these incredibly patient, kind, fun people. My heart overflows with gratitude for people who spend the time and energy to teach something they love to others. I continue to love sailing and will for the rest of my life. It’s in my soul now. —–
Leader, Will you lead through the fire? What when the fire dies? Who are you leading and do you know your why? Do you promote yourself above others? Or do you look and see others, weaving talents together to yield a cloth of multiplied strength? Deceptive is the idea that the best leader is one most skilled in his craft. Perhaps leading others is a skill in itself. Look just below the highest performing worker… for the one who watches, observes, encourages, challenges the team to grow. Can an intrinsically skilled leader of people lead in multiple contexts, regardless of his/her specific job training? Leader, lead people and know why you lead.
Leader Will you lead through the fire? What when the fire dies? Who are you leading and do you know your why? Do you promote yourself above others? Or do you look and see others, weaving talents together to yield a cloth of multiplied strength? Deceptive is the idea that the best leader is one most skilled in his craft (be it flying a plane, designing technology, etc). Perhaps leading others is a skill in itself. Look just below the highest performing worker… for the one who watches, observes, encourages, challenges the team to grow. Can an intrinsically skilled leader of people lead in multiple contexts, regardless of his/her specific job training? Leader, lead people and know why you lead.
Life is Sailing 