To anybody and nobody; to myself,

Friday, September 25, 2009
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I was in a shipwreck. I tried to fix my boat but it didn’t work. Too many holes. So I swam. The water was cold and choppy. I was real sea-sick. I swam, determined to get away from the shipwreck, and the water got calmer but it was still so, so cold. Then I found an island. It was just big enough for me not to be certain how far it truly stretched, but it seemed like there were endless things to explore there. I got out of the water, and dried off. I spent days- no, months- on that island. Dancing about, lighting fires; discovering new creatures and new forms of life. I wasn’t lonely on the island, but I chose to live alone there. There were many boats lined up on its shores. I liked to explore them, and jump in and out of them, but I never wanted to sail in them. I saw holes or other deficiencies in them.

Then one day I met a pirate on the island. And since I kept running into him, I finally followed him to his boat. It was a lot bigger than any of the other boats I had been on, so I stayed to explore it. I was getting tired of dancing. I was getting tired of exploring. So I spent the night on the pirate’s boat. It was cozy, and beautiful, and there was just so much to explore. Which I did. The pirate showed me around, and told me old secrets about the ship. I rested there. I dreamt there. And when I woke up, the boat had drifted from the shores of the island.

And so I was afraid.

I sat on the deck of the ship, and I thought,

If I tell him I’m thinking about going back, I’m stepping onto the plank. His reaction in the days that follow that step is crucial to whether or not I re-enter his boat or enter the water. If I do this, the decision to jump is no longer entirely mine. I may not be able to draw a big enough breath if I am forced off the plank. What if he does it quickly? Without warning?

But if I jump into the water without warning him, I may never find his boat again. I’m not even sure I can climb back in unless it’s docked, it's so tall. He might not help me up if I decide to swim back to it before I reach my island. I could drown that way.

The water would be cold, so far from the shore.

If I sail, that island will be lost from my sight forever.

What if the island isn't the same now that I’ve seen a pirate ship? What if I am lonely when I return?

There are other islands.

But sailing is so unpredictable. There are storms just as there are calm and beautiful stretches. You can discover fantastic things, or you can lose your ship. And I’ve still got to get back my sea legs from that last wreck. I may not be a good fit for First Mate just yet. What if I wreck the pirate’s old, magnificent ship?

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Ho ho. How did the story end?

Sunshine