Morgan Harper Nichols wrote:
Let April be April,
and let May be May.
And let yourself
just be
even in
the uncertainty.
You don’t have to fix everything.
You don’t have to solve everything.
And you can still find peace
and grow
in the wild
of changing things.
-MHN
This will be my last blog post written in Baltimore before I set sail northbound next week. Though I may post some trip updates, or have some spontaneous thoughts that I feel I need to share with the internet, I will likely be taking a little break from writing for the summer. As the seasons change, I change. But before I close out this season, I want to take a bit of time to reflect on some of the things that my winter in Baltimore has taught me, as well as look forward to what the next season will bring.
This past year was my first full year living aboard Phoenix. During our year together, our relationship has deepened immensely. We grew closer with each night that she gently rocked me to sleep in my warm and cozy bunk. Each morning when I drank my coffee wrapped in a blanket on the sette. Each day that I spent listening to music, hunched over my art.
We also grew closer through each challenge she presented me with. Each project she placed in my lap. Each windy night where the dock lines whined loudly and the rig shook. Each time I felt lonely, and questioned this alternative type of lifestyle. She was there for it all.
Most importantly, she witnessed the beginning and growth of my art business. I’m often asked if I enjoyed Baltimore, and I always find myself saying “it was exactly what I needed.” There is something about winter that allows us to retract from life a bit. And this winter I was able to hole up in my cabin, spend my time in solitude and create. It was a quiet retreat, to have no obligations to anyone but Phoenix and Roger. To myself and my art.
I spend lengths of time contemplating the change in seasons. Last spring I wrote a couple of blog posts about it as I struggled with the shift from winter into spring. Much of this struggle has to do with pace. It made me laugh at the coincidence (though I was not quite surprised) to see my own thoughts articulated back to me in a piece written recently by my friend and sailing mentor Mathias. He wrote “Oh Winter, every year you leave me too soon. And once again, I have no other option than to contend with the urgency of the birds and blossoms.”. We are beginning to speed up. And alongside pace, as we head into the warmth there is a shift away from solitude. We head into a faster paced season of connection and togetherness.
As I prepare to get underway on my sail north, I find I am making physical changes that assist my mental changes. Phoenix’s cabin is being rearranged out of harbor mode, and into sailing mode. Everything is getting shuffled around. I stow my winter work, I make ready the boat for efficient sailing, I prepare the aft cabin to welcome crew onboard. As Phoenix transforms, I transform.
Last year my post was titled “Bringing Winter’s Energy Into Spring”. And in the spirit of growth, I want to amend that. Though I do strive to live a slower paced life, I want to embrace this season’s change in energy for all that she is. I think back up to Morgan Harper Nichols poem. I would like to let April be April, and May be May. And I want to exist in the present moment of my life amongst it all, and still find peace, and grow in the wild of changing seasons.