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.
I have learned I need to be decisive but smooth. Watch for signs that indicate it’s time to prepare to center the tiller, like when the jib comes to center. “Break!” The jib action is a telltale sign when you’re in a bigger boat, like the Rainbow I sailed today with my husband and two of our kids. When I learned to sail a Topper, there was no jib. “Push the tiller toward the sail. The boom switches sides. Center the tiller. Move/jump to the other side.” These were the commands that I repeated over and over in my head as I learned how to tack.
The way we tack (switch sides of the wind direction) as we head toward our destination (or life goal) depends on what type of boat we sail. Are we a one-person boat, sailing solo going through life without a lot of extra responsibility? Are we two? What about when a baby comes along? Maybe a boat that fits five or more? How big our boat is (how large our ohana is) affects how we go about changing directions.
We always need to maintain speed through a tack or change in direction. We should move decisively and smoothly. However the size of the boat and the number of crew affect how the tack will be performed. Communication becomes critical, as does following the directions of the one in charge.
I have fallen for this flower, the stately hibiscus. Its five grandiose petals attract the eye of any observer of plants. It symbolizes beauty and joy, happiness and sunshine, friendship and love, mystery and knowledge. The hibiscus is also Hawaii’s state flower, fitting since Hawaii is the Aloha state, known for its welcome of visitors.
When we left Hawaii the first time, I found this necklace above and treasured it as a reminder of the island that stirred my soul alive.
A few years later after being blessed to return to paradise, we were facing another departure from the Aloha state, and I needed a replacement phone case. My favorite place to find phone covers was on the North Shore in Haleiwa at a stand across from Matsumoto’s Shave Ice. Previously I had discovered an octopus case, beautifully etched in painted wood. The octopus holds a story for another time. This day, as I searched through images of honu (Hawaiin word for turtle), waves, plumeria, the case that stood out to me was the hibiscus. It was bold but beautiful, delicate but strong.
As is evident in the photo above, this case has suffered through much turmoil in the past year since I bought it. Yet it continues to symbolize joy and beauty. When I see the flowers on the back of my phone it reminds me of the Aloha carried around the world because we were blessed to call a small island in the Pacific Ocean our home.
“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.
What a night! Immersed in the scenes of history.
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 