The boat is our vehicle and although it creaks and groans it’s pretty solid and unchanging for now. The boat gives us a sense of stability. Not like a house on solid ground, but a moving stability. Pea-pod shaped, not an extended cube. Minimal stability, like a body, with lots of pieces sticking out, like a body. Not a fortress against life, but a vehicle to take us into the mystery.
The mast is like a church spire, pointing to the heavens, the sun, open space, the stars, pointing beyond itself. The stays hold the mast firmly to the deck. They carry the boat wherever the mast goes, never to be separated. The mast is solidly grounded as it reaches for the heavens
Boats are for moving, boats have a rudder, they have a sense of direction. Maybe true stability needs these ingredients, aspiration and direction. Boats are shaped for movement, to move through the sea and the air, creating as little friction as possible. To move in harmony, smoothly.
I depend on this structure for the stability and orientation it provides, as my vehicle to take me into life, not as a substitute for engaging life. Sailing the balance of earth seems appropriate — it matches the human body.
These intuitions into life and learning — and many more — are detailed in Dyana’s Anchors in an Open Sea trilogy, beginning with book 1: The Yoga of Sailing.
