Sailboat on the Ocean

Imagine you are in a sailboat on the ocean.

The smell of salt air. The tiny echoes of waves breaking on the distant shore. The slight creak of the wooden boat as the water rocks it gently back and forth. The sound and sight of birds on the horizon. Now this draws your attention to the sun setting in the West and the clouds making the sky dimensional. Clouds. Not cotton candy or sheep as many people have compared them to… But their own texture. Their own being. The flutter of the sail in the dancing wind brings you back to the boat again. There are slight patches of dirt from whenever the cloth was taken down to be stored. You wished it would not be so. You wished that you could always be out on your boat, but perhaps that is not what is best. Now that you think about it maybe you don't want to be on your boat. You remember days past.

There was the one time you did not have your sail… Wondering aimlessly and getting sucked in by the waves. Beautiful waves made your enemy now from the oncoming storm. You sat helplessly, feeling like your boat was going to sink! If only you had a sail! You could steer yourself somehow… But now you see perhaps the ocean is too much for you. If you started with a sail perhaps you could get back to shore, back to safety. But no it’s too late.You and your boat now rendered useless by the waves.

Another day was when you were not out on the ocean. Just a boat and a sail tied up on the docks. The wind blows pointless and cold. It seems harsh to you now that it is not taking you anywhere. It no longer dances with the sail. It does not bring you joy because you are not moving. It is simply pushing against you. You feel empty and are endlessly searching for something. Anything! You want to go places, you feel like you need to go places! But alas you are stuck. Stuck is such an unromantic word. You can’t move across to the other side of the shore now. You see the ocean. You know it’s there, but you can’t be there yourself. You are sitting in your boat, with so much purpose but no motivation. Seriously all you have to do is go on the ocean! But. You can’t.

There is one more tale of woe that is the most dreadful and dangerous of them all. You. Alone in the ocean with the only remembrance of your boat being the sail you clutch in your trembling hands. It does not matter that you can swim. You start to drown. The ocean starts to overwhelm you like never before. Where was the beauty you saw in it?! You saw the colors of the sunset! The deep midnight blue reflection of the stars at night! The fish swam and the birds flew above, but now it all seems evil to you. It whispers its evil ideas, and fills your heart and brain. You feel you need to do something. Anything! Just to calm the waves. So you listen to what it says. At this point you have two places to go. Either you believe too much in yourself, trying to make a boat out of a silly cloth sail. Or you believe too little in yourself, and you give up and drown.

As you step into your boat once again you wonder why you have it at all. So much pain. Sure, the stories of your past experiences are only stories now… But still…

When you did not have a sail your friend saw you sitting alone in your boat on the ocean not going in any direction. She pulls her boat along side yours and notices your sail is not up. She talks for a while. Not small talk though. Real, deep conversation. You tell her why you’re on the ocean and how you feel helpless because of the waves. You ask if you can join her in her boat and she gently tells you no. She gives you the sail she was making for you while you were both talking about your problems and you start to protest that you don’t want to do this… The ocean has trapped you and you’re okay with that now. But she firmly insists this time, and helps you put your new sail up.

When you were sitting alone in your boat that one day… Weeks actually now that you think back on it… Or was it months? You told all your friends that it was fine. You sent them pictures of the ocean from a distance hoping they would not notice you were still tied up on the dock. If they found you, then they were told that you were “going out tomorrow” and you quickly persuaded them not to bother with you anymore. Finally one of your friends came up and asked why you were not on the ocean with such a fine vessel. You can’t lie today. You tell her that for some reason you don’t have the motivation to go out there. In some strange way she does not tell you to head out, but she does. She talks to you and tells her stories of the ocean. Of all the funny and sad moments of sea life… You have a faint glimmer of hope now. Hope? Of the ocean? Yes! It’s small, but there is some form of hope… You close your eyes and imagine the ocean now. She tells you stories of the salt air and the waves, you picture them, and now they seem real… You open your eyes and notice with astonishment that you are actually on the ocean now! Somehow in her stories you found the motivation to gently glide to the ocean again.

Oh yes. That one day. The day the whole world was ending. Well, maybe not the whole world, but yours. Drowning you call out. Hoping that someone would hear you. You lose hope. Anger hits and you hate everyone. “Don’t save me then I guess!” You cry out. “I don’t want to be a burden to anyone anymore!” Then a boat pulls up and your friend offers you a hand. He pulls you into his boat. He looks at you and smiles kindly. He asks where your sail is and you point to the ocean. He looks out leans over and takes your sail up into his boat too. You begin in silence, but now he talks with you while searching for your boat. He asks you why you were out there without a boat and at first you lie… Saying you don’t know, or that you don’t remember, but slowly the truth comes and you have real conversation. Even though there was pain that day there was some form of beautiful and raw existence that took place, caused in part by having no boat.

You take a deep breath. The air seems clear now that you have been thinking. The sun set and you see the deep, deep presence of stars both above and below you. It surrounds you like a light sweet smell. Like a breeze on a perfect day. A perfect day…Thinking back on all of the days in your boat, and of all the help of your friends you realize now that perhaps everyone has had problems like you have had. Maybe not in the exact same way, but they mentioned their struggles as they found you in yours. Your friends turned out all right…You are turning out all right… Maybe someday you can help them when they have problems… Maybe life on the ocean will not always be problems.

You listen again to the water as it brushes against the side of your boat like the way a lover gently caresses his thumb against his beloved’s hand. You see the ripples of the waves showing you the stars in a way that you have never thought to have seen them before. Moving and gliding across the ocean as if they were dancing. It almost seems like the real sky is less lifelike. It is still, meaningless, and half hearted as oppose to the reflection in the water. You lean over the side of the boat carefully. You lock eyes with yourself, and stare deeply into your soul. Leaning back you breathe in again, and out.


Perhaps it’s not terrible. The sailboat on the ocean.

Written by Winter Burnett on January 4, 2016