When I began the process of learning to sail, I was taken aback by what seemed like an infinite variety of things happening - all of which must be tracked and managed at the same time to safely and effectively sail. I have never been a quick thinker. I analyze, evaluate, and attempt to make an informed decision. This is probably why I was never great at sports. The best players think quickly, and simply react to the environment of which they are immersed in at that moment.
As I began to understand the pure physics of sailing, the next task was to actually perform the physical task of doing it. It wasn't easy, it was awkward. I was trying to analyze the direction and speed of the wind, the angle of my sails, and the direction I needed to push or pull the tiller. I was a mess. I mostly knew "what" I needed to do, but my brain was busy analyzing things that had already happened while my body was awkwardly trying to handle the things that were currently happening. I was one step behind my situation at all times.
For me this was a terrifying and telling moment. Flashbacks of myself as an uncoordinated teen on a highschool basketball team flashed through my head. Maybe I would just never "get it". That thought of failure was almost paralyzing to me. I really wanted this. Sailing wasn't something I intended for myself as just a hobby - this was intended to be a start of a new life. An escape plan.
Living in Connecticut for almost 10 years now has not been fun. I have come to realize my senses have been dulled, nearly erased. I feel less compassion. I notice less of the world around me. Often it takes me up to two hours each way to get to and from work, and then I don't remember the trip. Sometimes I have found that I have driven somewhere, only to realize I don't know where I am or how I got there. I don't stop, nor do I have time to stop and "smell the roses" as they say. Urban environments are like ant colonies. People move like ants, in endless lines on the ground. They crowd into tiny places like ants to an ant hill. They seemingly have no regard for one another. But somehow like an ant colony, it somehow works. At least it works for some. Urban living is not for me. For me, Connecticut is torture. I'm merely a nameless ant trying to not get run over by the millions of other ants with pure disregard. I feel nothing, I see nothing. I simply move day to day while life passes me by.
So in my moments of panic while learning to sail, feeling that I might not ever "get it" - I kept going. I told myself that if other people do it, it must be possible. Soon, I found that my brain wasn't analyzing the sails and the wind and the waves and the tiller. It was starting to all work together as my brain went against its nature of over thinking my situation. Like learning to ride a bike, my body and my knowledge of sailing began to take over. It was an immensely freeing moment. I am not entirely sure of the exact point in time when it happened. The important part is that it did.
Then came the side effect. I began to sense again. I began to notice the environment around me, something that had been long forgotten. Without my brain going into analysis-paralysis, I noticed the wind direction and speed. I notice the sights, sounds, and smells around me. I see the water, the waves, the trees on the shoreline. I don't think about the sheets, the tiller direction or the wind or the concert in which they must all work together. It just happens now. This may seem like such a minuscule thing to many, but imagine being robbed of these things. These simple things are part of "normal" life, one that I will someday be glad to get back. For now, I'll go sailing.
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