"It is in the work of life that we learn to truly love and to be alive. Not in taking the easy way out."
(Entry from August 3, 2006, Portland, Maine)
Yesterday, we all sailed together in Portland Bay. Bobby, Aidan and I took out the Sunfish. This was Aidan’s first time; he is just six
years old. We set out into the bay and
made two passes as a thunderstorm rolled in.
We sidled up to the dock and jumped onto the pier, kneeling, my son and I were holding on with the tethers firmly gripped in our hands. We waited while Bobby drove his car down to
us. Suddenly a wild, terrific storm
swept in and the waves were rolling and crashing, swelling over the dock as
Aidan and I held onto the boat with all the might of a six year old child and
his mama. A man came to offer help. This moment, these minutes were so intense and
profound. I felt completely alive, aware
of the danger side-by-side with my six year old; Aidan and I became one body,
truly one. It occurred to me in that suspended space of time waiting for Bobby’s return that I am raising exactly the kind of man I
would like to be with. Good. That’s my contribution, my creation. I reassured Aidan with all the confidence of
the divine female and male combined within my being that all is okay and rainbows surround us
and it’s all good. And, I really knew it;
I felt my words. I could count on this unseen
protection not from God, but from life, from our selves, from our togetherness.
As this rain pelted us and soaked our bodies, the back of us,
and rivulets of water streamed down our heads and faces to our noses and into
our open mouths, we were soaked with life!
My hair was ravaged and clinging to my face and nape of my neck,
cascades of water from my earlobes. Utterly soaked with life.
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