Life is Sailing

A place of life exploration, sailing journeys, and piece of thought

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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.
  • Today I challenged myself to 365 days of writing for no less than ten minutes a day and to take a picture of the location.

    Hidden Change

    I snuck into the back of the darkened sanctuary. My children and I were visiting a new Bible study, familiar in style but new location. We had walked through the crying infant and toddler drop-off locations. “I don’t like it here,” said my youngest in response to all of the noise. He seemed to have no idea that we were that family with loud, crying children not too long ago. As we rounded the corner into the “student” drop-off location, life became calmer and quieter. All went happily to their specified leaders. I briskly headed down the winding hallways to the adult section where I quietly slipped into the sanctuary.

    I sat by myself, surrounded by a few empty chairs and women young and mature. From my choice seat, I could view the entire audience as well as the speaker. Everyone seemed eager to be there, anticipating a chance to meet the women in their small groups. As the speaker spoke enthusiastically about the contents we will cover this year, my spirit stirred with the title of our study – Exile and Return: a Time to Build. A shirt two rows in front of me drew my attention – butterflies. Her friend next to her wore a colorful floral shirt. Butterflies = Spirit moving, transformation from grounded to flight, growth. This is a time of change, a time to rebuild. This year of study God is going to move in my heart and the hearts of those dear to me. I saw it already when this evening two of my boys independently asked to read their Bibles. I heard it in conversations with others. Perhaps there will be a chance to share beyond our family.

    Sometimes change is hidden, like this butterfly in a photo I snapped at the beach. Sometimes it is blazingly evident in front of our eyes. Can we embrace it and adapt?

  • Today I challenged myself to 365 days of writing for no less than ten minutes a day and to take a picture of the location.

    Roll with it

    I try to find activities for myself and my children, sometimes informal sports gatherings or social get togethers. I think I have great ideas. I do my research. I plan it into our day. Then when I or we arrive, no one is there. It happens to be the one day that everyone was sick… or out of town… or the location was changed last minute… or there are two locations and I chose the wrong one. Seriously, it’s kind of insanely funny how many times this has happened to me.

    One might consider me to be a poor planner or researcher, but I am convinced that those encounters were just not meant to be. God has other plans for the day. There have been times when I have had the opportunity to actually see the other end of the story, the opportunities that arose because doors were shut earlier. It is still often quite frustrating, to feel like I’m spinning my wheels and getting nowhere, but when I roll with it, I end up finding more than I thought I was looking for. So I think I must choose to roll with it.

  • Today I challenged myself to 365 days of writing for no less than ten minutes a day and to take a picture of the location.

    Glass

    (written Friday, August 29, 2025)

    The glassy surface of the sound
    Reflects the muted sky.
    Tiny ripples sneak across smooth serenity.

    Color of sky and water 
    merged as one.
    Soft blues
    and grays
    and pinks.

    Glass.
  • Today I challenged myself to 365 days of writing for no less than ten minutes a day and to take a picture of the location.

    To the Waterside

    (Thursday, August 28, 2025)

    If there is one recommendation I could give to our stressed-out culture, it would be “Get thee to the waterside.”

    The gentle breeze in the water.
    The tall pines with falcons and various water fowl.
    Tiny fish swimming in schools
    A 2-inch fish stand-off and fight.
    Fish jumping for joy.
    Noticing the tire tracks in the water.
    The sound of gentle ripples circling and spreading out from a center drop.
    Sounds of cicadas.
    Soft, compacted, wet sand beneath my feet.
    A delightful monarch butterfly.

    Get thee to the waterside.
  • Today I challenged myself to 365 days of writing for no less than ten minutes a day and to take a picture of the location.

    Tiny Changes

    (written Wednesday, August 26, 2025)

    Today is my first day back to writing in the mornings. Too many late night musings. The book Atomic Habits by James Clear emphasizes the significance of tiny changes to habits. Making time for writing the morning is my tiny change for life.

    What is yours?

  • Today I challenged myself to 365 days of writing for no less than ten minutes a day and to take a picture of the location.

    Jumping Fish

    (written Tuesday, August 26, 2025)

    This may sound silly to some, but I just learned that fish don’t just jump when they are being chased. Among other reasons, fish sometimes jump for play!

    So as I sit watching the peaceful water, I see a huge fish jump. And then another. I think they are jumping for joy. I jump for joy too! How beautiful.

  • Today I challenged myself to 365 days of writing for no less than ten minutes a day and to take a picture of the location.

    The MRI

    (written Monday, August 25, 2025)

    Setting: a hospital in Maryland.

    I was given a gown and told to leave all my belongings (purse, rings, jewelry) in an open box that would be watched in an empty room. After being asked if I needed anesthesia (which I declined), I was taken to the MRI room, a large round machine situated in the middle.

    “No, there is no music.” Their speakers hadn’t worked for quite a while.

    I was placed in a very uncomfortable position with my painful left thumb propped up for imaging. Lying on my belly, covered with a blanket, I stared awkwardly ahead into the sterile tube. The table slid me forward into the machine. Without anymore explanation than “You’ll hear some knocking noise for the next few minutes until the images are done,” and “Here’s the button if you need to stop,” the young radiology technician exited the room.

    What happened next was no mere knocking noise. It was heart-pounding, loud, repetitive but erratic, rat-a-tat-tat! I had not been warned to bring earplugs! Those definitely would have helped! So many times in the subsequent minutes I came close to pushing the quit button. However I needed that imaging, and I did not want to experience this again. Every fiber in my being wanted out of there. I felt angry at the techs and at the hospital for the lack of training these guys appeared to have received. You don’t just stick someone in a tube with noises like that with no idea of how long it has been or how much time is left and nothing to do! That is torture, and it is wrong. I cried motionless tears, for I dared not move a muscle near my hand. I tapped my foot, rolling it around the way I do to get through blood draws. I began counting aloud, slowly from 1 to 100 and then backwards down to 1. I sang hymns and folk songs quietly to myself.

    If I remember correctly, the whole thing took 45 minutes. And then suddenly it stopped. There was no communication during the process, just me and my thoughts and the awful “knocking” (hammering). As the table pulled me back to sanity, I wanted to jump out of my skin. I was so on edge.

    “You did really well,” the tech said.

    No thanks to you!, I thought in my head. “Do you ever have people that experience panic attacks in there?” I asked.

    “All the time,” he shared convincingly.

    Well, of course they do! How could they do that to people and not change something???

    Another day, I had quite the opposite experience at a different radiology clinic, this one a civilian imaging diagnostic center. At least it’s not always such torture, however uncomfortable.

  • Today I challenged myself to 365 days of writing for no less than ten minutes a day and to take a picture of the location.

    Stability

    (written Sunday, August 24, 2025)

    A rhythm
    A pattern
    Predictable ways.
    We search for stability,
    Security, sense of belonging.

    Here's to a return of routines and order in life.
  • Today I challenged myself to 365 days of writing for no less than ten minutes a day and to take a picture of the location.

    Life Journeys in Piano

    (written Saturday, August 23, 2025)

    Playing the piano is one of the first things I enjoy doing after we return from a trip. It is not usually the first thing I do. Considering children and luggage, a lot happens before I am able to sit and tickle the ivory. However when the activity slows down and I am able to rest on my small cushioned bench, my fingers find those black and white keys and sing their favorite melodies.

    Michele McLaughlin is a regular go-to for me these days. She composed a piece called “Synergy” that I have played through many times. It is one of the more intricate pieces in her book that I own, requiring both the right and left hands to play together but almost separate melodies much of the time. A beautiful interplay between the two hands, it has challenged me to develop a listening ear for both melodies. When I first began playing the piece, I emphasized the left hand melody, almost dominating over the right hand. After my left thumb injury, my left hand was much weaker, and, frustrated, I let my right hand take the lead. With time, however, I grew to treasure the main tune that the right hand held and understood more of the subtleties of the left. After a year, my left hand has pretty much returned to my previous skill level. Now I notice a richer sound as my hands balance and blend together.

    Experiment, injury, rehab, and return. It is a fascinating journey. Often frustrating and emotional, set backs seem often to propel us forward into heights we were incapable of entering before. It happens to athletes, academias, writers, and musicians. I daresay it is a phenomenon that occurs in all walks of life.

  • Today I challenged myself to 365 days of writing for no less than ten minutes a day and to take a picture of the location.

    The Gathering

    (written Friday, August 22, 2025)

    Sixteen years
    Flew by so fast
    We kept in touch
    Via Christmas cards
    But how does one truly know
    Life events that bring joy and pain
    When one is not witness of such things?

    And yet with one sweet four-hour gathering
    It seemed the years were but days.
    Sisters in Christ,
    United through faith
    We shared from our hearts
    Past joys and trials
    And blessed were 
    Our families for 
    Gathering.

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.