The Friendly World For Sailors

Tomorrow and Friday this page will be visited by two guest bloggers, Erica Bauermeister and Diane Hammond respectively. I will be out of town, and being the creature of habit that I am, I don’t feel ready to blog from anywhere but where I am sitting right now.

I understand that this is all superstition and that I could write anywhere, but it doesn’t feel that way. My desk feels like a well-cured frying pan, having received the steady seasoning of my doubt and excitement over the years. It is a sturdy and reliable friend, indifferent to my angst, and ready to receive me whenever I am ready to be received.

Good to have such friends. I would like to be unflappable, I would like to sail smoothly from port to port, but I seem to steer toward rough water now and again. I can’t help it, it looks so interesting, and then I’m in it and I want to know how in the hell I’ve gotten here, and what happens if I drown, and shouldn’t there be buoys to warn poor sailors like me?

I’ve managed to find my way out of all the water so far since here I am writing to you. And once I’m warm and dry it’s good to have friends like my desk to hear my story. You can’t be judged if you’re going to tell such a story. I know I chose where I pointed my boat, I know how ugly my gnashing and wailing could get, but I’m done with the gnashing and wailing for the moment and I need a place to settle my thoughts so I can let other sailors know about the waters I’ve seen.

We’ve all got such a friend. Mine waits for me at my desk, but I will have to leave this desk some day anyhow, and there are plenty of flat surfaces in the world to set my laptop.  I think maybe I will find that just about any will do, and that the world is a friendly place in the end for poor but willing sailors like you and me.

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