Part Three - I used to ride horses
My dream is the sailboat. I've had this dream for a long time actually. It's funny to me how so many things in my life come back full circle. I clearly remember my first time on a sailboat. When I was little, I went sailing with my mom and some friends of hers off the coast of California. I was absolutely scared to death. It was a very windy and choppy that day and on days like that sailboats can be scary, and the extra noise of the wind in the sails and the boat slamming down as it skips from one wave to the next can be downright unnerving. They lean waaaay over to one side and when it's choppy, it's a roller coaster ride. At the time I didn't understand what kept a sailboat from flipping all the way over and that choppy, churning, really really deep ocean didn't seem like the place I wanted to end up. So in the beginning I held on to the rail for dear life.
Eventually our hosts got me to understand the physics of a boats keel and how it keeps the boat from capsizing. Eventually I let go of my death grip on the rail and found a comfortable place to sit where I could enjoy the ride. I saw that our hosts trusted their boat, and so I trusted the boat with them. I saw how they didn't over control the boat, they let the boat go where it wanted to go somewhat, as if the boat knew better than they did what the right thing was to do in that moment.
By the end of our trip I was completely enthralled, mesmerized, and captivated with sailing. I heard the sound of the sails flapping in my dreams; I smelt the salt air even while I lived in later years in the farm country of Pennsylvania. And so my dream is the sailboat. I didn't realize it until somewhat recently that subconsciously, internally, and almost as if genetically programmed, just about everything I have done in my life has pointed me in the direction of the sailboat. All my life's experiences have prepared me for something yet to come, and I'm feeling quite strongly that I'm about to go on yet another profound journey. But while I can sort of direct the sails and plot a course, in the end the Universe knows which way to go better than I do. And with the position I am in my life right now, with my Karma building, I am strapping on my running shoes to make the run towards the home stretch.
Since I own my own business, I get a lot of fringe benefits. One of those fringe benefits is to come and go from work as I please. I call it Executive Privilege and I value that one a lot. It allows me to spend even more time with my son than a full time father does, it allows me to blast off on my motorcycle on a super nice spring day. But the single most profound benefit is that I can literally create whatever vision for myself that I am bold enough to dream up. Yes, I may be a dreamer, but I've found throughout my life that I have a nasty habit of making my dreams come true.
My dream is to sell out of my business in about 10 years, collect a very nice check, keep my best 25 clients, and work half an hour a day via satellite uplink and a cell phone from the boat from somewhere in the Caribbean. I would tool up and down the eastern seaboard during the summer, and dock the boat in warmer climes during the winter. I've taken sailing classes and I know how to handle a boat, but it's been a long time since I've sailed. I would have to start small again, perhaps just have a small day boat to mess with around with in the safer New England shoals. But eventually I would want to work my way up to the 35 foot twin mast boat of my boyhood dreams.
Some dreams I've given up on when I realized that they really did exceed my grasp. I'll never be an airline pilot, but I'm content to land 757's on Microsoft flight simulator. I'll never be a rock star, but I'm content with the stages I've played on. But some things I am still fighting for. The sailboat is one of them. Right now I have a picture of one on my computer desktop that I shot one amazing day last summer. The picture's caption is "Something like this one, on this day, with the sky like this, with you."
Another dream I'm not giving up on is the belief in the still mysteriously absent true companion. I have no fear of settling down - and in fact I long for it - but I'm reluctant to settle for just anyone, and I definitely want to have some adventure with that someone first. Travel at whim, stay out late, spend money as we see fit, ride motorcycles without helmets, swim with the sharks (without being eaten), and all manner of similar things that make life worth living and savoring. More than anything I search for and wait for a companion to explore the Universe with. I haven't seen nearly enough of it yet for my tastes, and I would prefer not to do it alone.
As I've grown as a man especially in the last few years, there have been a lot of philosophies that I've embraced and adopted, and an equal number of them I've let go of. One of the thoughts I've let go of is to search for someone who fits into my predetermined idea of what the future should be like. I used to do this, and it's still a habit that I struggle with. As my very good friend Jamal is fond of saying "learn to take things as they come". I've ruined more things than I care to remember by trying to change them into something they're not. I'm working on not doing that anymore.
When I was a boy I had the profound experience of riding horses. I went on a YMCA day trip or something of that sort to a horse ranch, and along with a bunch of other people we went trail riding. For me it was a lot like the boat. I was terrified at first. This was a huge moving animal with a mind of it's own who could toss me off, stomp on me and generally squash me if he so chose. I held on to the reins for dear life, just like I held on to the rail of that sailboat. Of course when you hold the reins too tightly, the horse goes slower. And so little by little I found myself at the end of the line of horses, and not too soon after that the rest of the group was well ahead of me.
It wasn't too long before the rear tour guide found me. He told me about holding to the reins too tightly, he gave me a crash course on how to sit so I would feel more secure, and then without much more warning he gave the horse a little switch on the rump - and the horse took off. And I mean we took off! In a bolt we were racing though the forest and bushes and saplings were whacking against me everywhere. I was being bounced around in the saddle desperately trying to remember not to hold on too tight, but still certain that at any moment I would come flying out of that saddle.
But I didn't. I got into the cadence of it with my body, and soon I noticed things other than the bushes and saplings. I noticed the wind, the sound of the hoofs, the movement of the horse, the smell of the dust of the trail, the cracking of small rocks being kicked up. I remember a sense coming over me like a really good buzz that the horse could be trusted, that the horse was my friend and really had no desire to squash me whatsoever. I felt that the horse knew better than me what to do in that moment and in that moment it was just like sailing.
I rode several more times that summer at that ranch and really came to feel a connection with horses. I understood more about what you see in cowboy movies where the horse and the rider are one, and communicate with each other in some non verbal language. I began to understand the trust and the bond that forms between rider and horse, and I felt that it suited me.
I hadn't ridden since, until last summer. On a whim I went riding with a friend at a ranch in Connecticut. Trail riding again fairly tame, but it all came right back. I was very comfortable in the saddle, and the horse was responding to my every request.
At one point on the ride we came to a clearing, so I gave the horse a little kick, we scooted out of line and quick trotted up so I could ride side by side with my friend. The guide didn't take to kindly to it and asked me to get back in line. But for a moment I showed my friend who thought I was a die hard city boy that not only could I ride, but that I could ride well. I also felt to myself that I could easily see myself on a horse regularly. At one point during the ride, we were able to gallop briefly. Again, the wind was in my face, and the sound of the hoofs, and the smell of the open country, all these things came back and I was one with the Universe again for just a few moments.
My match profile says I'm holding out for quality. That's no lie. I've been through enough relationship trauma that I'm not willing to settle for the first person who finds me interesting. One person's profile I know says that she "wants it all or nothing". Somehow, I think that person is going to find the latter rather than the former. I used to feel something like that myself though, so I can empathize with her.
Me? I'm holding out for quality, but more important I holding out or something real. At first, I thought "real" meant someone who wanted the sailboat with me, and perhaps that's still a part of it. But that's less and less important these days. Real means giving up on pigeon-holing, it means adapting, and patience, trust and love. What's important are all the things that we all already believe in, but that most of us just give lip service too. Isn't it interesting that the most important - most profound concepts are the simplest ones. And that's a big part of things that I have learned to let go of what I thought things were going to be like. While there are some things that have unfolded exactly as planned, there are an equal number of them that are random, and to try to control or direct them would ruin it. Besides, sometimes when you let go of outcomes, the outcome finds you and it ends up being exactly what you were hoping for in the first place. There's some music I'm listening to these days. One of them is U2 -Zoo Station. The lyrics go "I'm ready for the shelter, I'm ready for the deal, I'm ready to let go of the steering wheel, I'm ready.. ready for the crush." That's kindof my theme song right now.
And so maybe the dream isn't to look for someone to sail with, maybe it's to come into someone else's world. And perhaps that someone loves horses.