Chapter 2

Sometime the next morning, I woke to familiar noises.  The boat had drifted close to shore near a small town. 

To my relief, it had turned out to be a very short journey to a very nice place.

I hadn’t quite made landfall, so I began to paddle with my hands toward the beach just beyond the town.  With the currents pulling back out toward sea, it took several hours and a monumental effort to reach the shore and several more to pull the boat far enough onto the beach to prevent the tides from reaching it.  

Sweaty and tired, I walked the short distance into town and within a few hours had all the information I needed.  It seemed to be a perfect fit.  There was available housing and a job opening for which I was qualified.

I decided to spend a final night in the boat, before setting about securing work and lodging the following day.  Nearing the beach, I was startled to realize how high the tide had risen during the time I was exploring the town.  I would definitely need to lug the boat to a higher elevation before risking the night inside of it, or I could very well wake up to find myself swept out to sea.  

With these plans occupying my thoughts, I didn’t at first realize that the boat was already drifting out to sea, moving westward in the current.  How could I have been so stupid as to not secure it to the shore.  It is a terrible decision, one over which I have no time to agonize.  

Behind me are the lights of the town.  Ahead of me, the unknown.  But I still feel the pull of the sea.

I begin tearing along the shoreline.  As the elevation increases, I hurry the best I can over the increasingly rugged terrain, always keeping sight of the boat on the water.  I’m so focused that I nearly stumble off the edge of the cliff.  I have reached the far extent of the land.  An expansive cove stretches before me.  And immediately, I realize that the boat is not drifting into the protected cove but is instead moving further out to sea.  There’s no hope of skirting the cove on foot before the boat will pass the cliffs on the other side.  

It is a split-second decision, more foolish even than setting sail the day before.  Without daring to look down, I take a running start and launch myself out over the water.  I hit the surface and plunge to an impossible depth, and then struggle and kick in the direction I hope is up

When I finally break through the waves, gasping for air, the boat is only a short distance away.  I pull myself in and collapse.  My last conscious thought one of relief.  It is a relief to have reached the boat.  But it is an even greater relief to have once again left the shore.

— — —

Telling the story proves to be a gift; speaking it aloud clarifies the truth.

I know, at the core of my soul, I am on a journey I would never want to miss.  It makes me thankful for my current circumstances. 

And I feel a new strength growing in me.

Reflection Questions:

What causes you to choose the safe and familiar over adventure and boldness?

What would it look like to put some distance between yourself and a place you no longer want to be?