A college professor of mine regarded Rudyard Kipling as a Hallmark poet: not the kind of high brow writing that a serious literate would adorn their book shelves with. Still, Kipling's poem If has been rotating around in my head ever since we hit the EPIRB. In particular, the second stanza.
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools.
The last two years of our adventure was the most glamorous part: the high seas, a foreign country, and new horizons. It was a magical world and for those out there who are planning their own adventures I think to some we served as motivation or at least a reference point.
But what made those two years possible was the decade before it. It was acquiring a lot of sea time. Buying a boat. Paying down debt. Long hours in the office. Getting my commercial license. Many, many hours of physical labor.
Those were not sexy years. They do not capture the eye with pictures of amazing sunsets or tropical paradises. But the reality for most of us is that if you want to achieve something you need to put some serious time in at the grindstone to get there.
So more than anything, that's what I'm trying to embrace again right now. Whatever we want to do next, whether it involves a boat, a cabin, or a spaceship, it will ultimately come down to having a plan and following it.
One of the biggest things that I learned through our experience is that every single one of us, you and me included, are capable of achieving any goal that's even remotely possible. It really comes down to putting a plan together and working towards it. Every day, bit by bit, chiseling away and making progress.
The responsibility to pursue our ambitions and make them manifest is ours: the locus is internal.
And with that, aside from the random thoughts about the loss of our boat, I'm starting a new chapter in my mind.
You can't help it if a bird flies over your head, but you don't need to let him make a nest in your hair.
Those words, spoken by Martin Luther, have been helping me over the last couple of months. It's natural, normal, and healthy to run through all the emotions following trauma. The thoughts of guilt and self doubt battling away with confidence and sureness of direction.
Ultimately though, I need to control what I spend time thinking about. If I only have sixteen or so conscious hours a day, will I spend those hours in a true and honest pursuit of a dream, or will I hamstring myself by occupying my mind with thoughts and emotions that serve no constructive purpose.
So, happily, back to the grindstone I go. From this point forward you can expect content that will be un-exciting, work-heavy, and without a sense of finality or closure: exactly what's required to take dreams and turn them into plans, and then eventually reality.