Saturday, September 10, 2011


    I am feeling adrift in a vast and lonesome sea. I have no oars, my tiller is damaged and dysfunctional, my anchor has broken loose, the hull is cracked and I am taking on water. The sea, grey and cold, tosses me about like so much flotsam. The wind hits in vicious gusts, suddenly, unexpectedly, randomly, without direction, hitting from any direction and then dying to dead calm. The sea foam seems more substantial than I am right now. The dark, chilled waters brighter and warmer than my spirit.
    As I drift, I have to cling to the hope that I will sight land, find a safe harbor. Even a tiny cove, or narrow strip of sand. Anything to let me get my feet back on solid ground, even if it is a strange and hostile land.
    I remind myself that at least my small ship is well-stocked with basic supplies. I will not starve, or die of thirst. By sustaining my body I will survive my ordeal at sea, until I can regain my footing, my sense of stability, find my stretch of land, my private beach, my desert island.
    Will I end up as Caruso? Alone on an island of my own making? With my dogs playing Friday to my Robinson? Will that be enough for even one as solitary as I am? I don't know. I can't say. At this point I can't even look beyond each individual wave as it hits the prow of my leaky craft. I scan the horizon hoping for a glimpse of anything but the endless sea.
    Loneliness engulfs me, but does not defeat me. Loneliness has been a long time companion and so does not frighten me, although it is an exhausting and not always welcome visitor. I know I have to realign my spirit, my sense of self, my view of this vast, empty ocean. Shift from Lonely to Alone. I am familiar and comfortable with being Alone. Alone is often my room mate, and is a welcome and comforting ship mate. I can be Alone, I cannot allow Lonely.
    My small boat, adrift and taking on water, may be battered and leaky but it is the only craft I have. So I will repair my tiller, bail the water that pools at my feet, dress the lines and patch my sails. I will manage to stay afloat until I find land. I will survive my lonely, cold, desperate voyage. I have no choice. 

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