Bless Me Father For I have Sinned

I have a confession...Despite spending the past 2 years sacrificing my body, mind + weekends to sail racing, I don’t love it.

Now before you come at me with the obvious question – well, why do you do it then? – let me explain.

If you haven’t grown up in the sailing world, getting into it at an older age (41 to be exact) is not easy. And I’m not talking about the “anything new is going to be uncomfortable” not easy. I mean almost zero of the experience is easy. The technical side of sailing is like deconstructing quantum physics. Every part of the boat + every maneuver has some obscure name that doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue. God forbid you refer to a “line” as a “rope” (even though it most definitely is a rope) – you’ll get called out by someone. Even if you have a solid skipper who calls out orders correctly + on-time (it’s rarer than you think), you may not always hear them, which can land you in some scary, gravity-defying situations…or, at the very least, with lots of bruises.

On top of being physically + mentally taxing, the sailing community is tight knit. If you weren’t born into the community, the only other way of breaking into the scene is by attending the post-race socials where everyone eats, drinks + shares tales about the 26-day offshore race they did back in ’95. This is how you bond. This is how you make connections. As an I-haven’t-drank-in-7 months introvert, the last thing I want to do after spending 6+ hours on a boat in the sun pulling ropes – AHEM, I mean lines - is to spend another 3+ hours listening to someone talk about what happened on another boat 30 years ago. Especially when a huge bowl of spaghetti + my couch is waiting for me at home.

So, what exactly do I get out of this insanely technically difficult sport that has its fair share of quirky unstated technical, social + political rules?

I realized not too long ago that the reason I keep showing up is to connect with something bigger than myself. Becoming the world’s best sailor and breaking into the sailing community isn’t a priority for me. I’m not looking to work my way up the proverbial sailing ladder, so I can rub elbows with the world’s best on the most elite boats. I just want to learn how to sail. Getting a free education on how to make a very powerful, very regal-esque object – a sailboat - glide through the water + dance with the wind + waves is as close to heaven on earth as it gets (besides surfing). And that’s what I crave. Any moment I can get out of my head + meld into the fabric of our Universe, I’m all in.

When I was 30, a therapist told me I was too much of an “adventure seeker” (in all fairness, this happened while I was in the middle of dropping out of my PhD program and making plans to move to Costa Rica, so I can see how a stranger might have some concerns). In some ways, she wasn’t wrong. I will always be an adventure seeker. I will always be a person who is looking for + deeply connects with the magical moments. And now that I’m a bit older + wiser, I understand that most of those moments don’t come without some pain + discomfort. So, no, I’m not in love with sailing (at least not yet), but I am in love with the magical moments it sets me up for. And I’ll always trade in my comfort for curiosity – for a chance to lift the veil + take a glimpse into what this human experience is really all about.

Wishing You Waves for Days,

K