When we breathe in the briny
air—something clears—winds of clarity and renewal blowing through us; and
something anchors. There is that deep sense of “just knowing,” of surety—a type of
homecoming—not about sticking our heads in the sand, or hiding under the covers
to effect that comfort—rather, it is that deep, clear, sharp sense of clarity:
it relaxes into itself. There isn’t any doubt. But the surety doesn’t come from
having nailed down every possibility, or manipulating everyone and everything
into conforming to our expectations. It’s an inner surety, that even mindful of
some likely soakings, that we’ll be just fine—and we know what to do next. Timidity has fled.
While we may refer to
nautical charts, known facts, eye-witness reports, local lore and suspicions--joining
us at the helm, is Intuition. Standing at the ship’s wheel, gazing out across
the water, flanking us, sometimes in translucent outline, at other times in
near flesh, age vacillating, is a sea-seasoned, tall-plank, ship’s captain, with
crystalline eyes, in captain’s cap, pea coat & dungarees. There is:
kindness, wisdom and challenge in those eyes---and info and insight we won’t
live long enough to garner on our own, but is being freely offered. This Old
Salt is the Presence of the Life Force necked down into something relatable,
personal, companionable and useful.
We were never meant to ride
the waves of our lives alone. This doesn’t mean we shouldn’t develop reason, not
use our brains, or blow off common wisdom—and, Deeper Wisdom, at times, flies in the face of all known common
sense, drawing on a deeper Truth. This old Salt will also inform us, against
all appearances of clear sailing, not only to not leave shore, but “absurdly”
to batten down the hatches—only to be spared the ravage of an unexpected storm.
It knows all manner of things that we do not—and is willing to share.
Imagine being gathered ‘round
a map table, several shipmates discussing the best routes and the weather
conditions as you explore where, and whether, to go next. In the corner,
rocking a chair tipped back on two legs, is The Captain, whispering adjuncts,
sage wisdom and knowledge, that is not floating the conversation in the room. We
were made, engineered, to have this Intuitive Partner informing all of our
contemplations and activities. Regrettably, with sometimes distressing results,
we have blown this off as anything needed or necessary, seeing it as
intermittent flukes —sporting an “I’ve gotten along fine on my own, thank you,”
attitude. While we survive a lack of direct interface with it, we don’t really thrive
unless we accept this Old Salt as our Ship Mate.
We’ve all had that heady
sense of being “spot-on,” against all odds; well-meaning friends hissing “don’t
do it,” and—we ARE spot-on. We score;
we bring down the “big one.” We hear ourselves muttering, “At any other time
—I’d agree with you. But . . . something’s different this time; I’m do’n it. We
don’t know ‘why’ with our minds; we
know with our bone-knowing.” On the other hand, we’ve had the occasion to hear
our self-same voices, saying “I was so sure . . . “—and it didn’t pan out. Most times self-deception is the
culprit, personal dishonesty—or potential harm to an unknown other. Spiritual Override buts in: “Nope—ain’t let’n
you do that; it’ll mess you (them) over.”
Old Salt gives us space and respect we
rarely give each other. It waits for Permission, with Patience unimaginable, to
be Invited, allowing us free rein and reign--sovereignty of will: to our
frequent consternation of feeling lost, confused and alone, “flopping around on
the dock like a fish out of water.” On occasion, it intervenes without invite,
maybe not even noticed, changing something only minute degrees. On rarest of
occasions, it’ll blow the ship out of the water! – loosing us from a tangled
net in the process. This occurs usually because something deeper of the soul is
crying out for help overriding the obstinacy of the ego’s fears of being found either
lacking, or Heaven forbid, revealed that it doesn’t have to be a victim of
circumstance! “All you had to do was ask!”
This
Wise Presence operates through many mediums, including people: When I was 19, I
had made an error in judgment. Distressed at the results, I felt since I had
created it; I had to fix it. More than that, I was embarrassed to reveal the
issue in order to get help. Stressed out, I reported for work for my usual
shift. I hadn’t been on the floor long when the phone rang: No ‘Hello,’ no ‘How
are you?’ — Just my boyfriend growling into the phone “What’s wrong!” When I
got off work, we faced the issue together, and the problem was resolved. That
boyfriend again: riding a city bus headed to karate class, I surprised the bus driver,
telling him: “Please, I need to get off here.” I’d only just gotten on a couple
blocks back. Kindly the driver stopped, at a ‘non-stop’ and opened the door. I
scrambled down the steps, trotted back across the intersection we had just
crossed, and stood at the cross-walk, craning my neck, scanning the traffic. I
saw my boyfriend’s gold Chevrolet pick-up truck in the traffic. Flagging him
down, I ran to the passenger door and jumped inside the truck; looking at his
grinning face: “Knew you were coming.”
I married this guy—with him 29 years, until he passed in 1996.
It
can work through timing and the ‘luck’ of forgetting something: think Sleepless in Seattle, when young Jonah
leaves his knapsack behind at the Empire State Building, which brings him, and
his father, Sam Baldwin, back to the observation deck to retrieve it, hence
connecting them, destined, with
Annie. In a similar manner, now many years ago, I was protected when getting
off work extra late at night: a man approached, starting to harass me, as I was
locking up. A worker from the next-door shop unexpectedly returned to retrieve a
camera he’d left behind earlier, the threat melting into the night as the
worker guarded me to my car.
"Why?" we ask, initially, when something spools out that appears to derail us, capsize us, only to find out later—sometimes years later, it was
steering us to ultimate success—in spite of apparent disaster. There’s often that
eerie sensation of it being the road “almost
not taken,”—the “left we took, when we almost turned right,” the intense
sensation of “Could have missed that—altogether!” We can make a “wrong turn” and, stopping to
ask for directions, we connect with our next right employment. A snatch of
conversation heard from an open doorway informs us of a pirate movie our nephew
would love to see. We go to the movie. Next thing we know, we’re taking a
fencing class that blesses coordination, timing and agility—where we meet the
partner of our dreams, a guy who captains Tall Ships, bringing hours of joy out
on the water. See you out on the waves.
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