Visualization

Sometimes, what with the economy being as damaged as it is and the job market being so uncertain, it's easy to get discouraged and wonder whether we will be able to transform our sailing dream into reality. We have the spirit and the determination, but ultimately, a lot of it will hinge on whether we have the means to do so. 

One of my friends is always talking about the importance of visualization. Visualization, she says, is the first step in shaping the future we want. So last night, Trent and I tried it for ourselves. We sat down for half an hour, and in that time, each of us wrote out a description of what a day in our lives will look like seven years from now. We started with a basic scenario: we're in the Caribbean by that time. On this day, our plan is to sail a short distance from one island to another.

Here's part of what Trent wrote:

"I woke this morning because the sun hit my foot. We left the sky view open last night to get a breeze and because we could. We have been doing things lately because we can. We sailed to this small little island a few days ago. We had a blast swimming and fishing and just taking it easy but we thought it was time to move on. Mainly because we could. We didn't set an alarm because there was no need. It didn't matter when we got up and more importantly we knew our son would be up trying to catch dinner. It wasn't so much that we wanted to eat a fish, it was just that he wanted to catch one. He also knew that if he caught dinner it might be a special treat for him next time we were in port.

Anyway, I felt the warmth hit my foot and slowly got out of the rack. Sure enough as soon as I got topside there was our son, trying to catch a fish and watching the locals go by on a boat that looked like it could sink at any moment. He said he already had breakfast and didn't need anything. This was fine by me, as I wanted to go back below and start the coffee. Although we were not at home, the one thing we had everywhere was coffee. Susanne and I needed it to start the day and I wanted to get some going before she got up as a treat to her. She had been up late updating our blog for our friends and readers."

And here's part of what I wrote:

9:30 a.m.: Get underway. There’s a decent breeze in a direction favorable to our destination, so once we’re clear of really shallow water and reefs, we turn off the engine and put up the sails (have already forgotten the technical term for that). Our son does the sail handling, Trent steers, and I oversee navigation.

10 a.m.: Assuming all is well, I clean up the cabin a bit. When he’s not handling the sails, our son takes pictures and reads a little.

Noon: I make sandwiches and pour sodas and pass them around.

2 p.m.: Arrive at next, nearby island. We anchor the boat in a good spot (I’m sure I will one day learn what a “good spot” is) near the island and carefully stow away the sailing gear.

3 p.m.: We take the dingy over to the island and check it out. There’s a public beach, so we go swimming. We meet some other cruisers there and invite them over for dinner.

4:30 p.m.: We pick up some local fruit at a roadside stand and take it back to the boat. I start making dessert and a salad.

5:30 p.m.: Cruisers come by, and we invite them on board. They’ve brought some fresh fish. We use it to make fish tacos. We have drinks, food, and conversation. They’re really nice. We plan on keeping in touch and perhaps doing some passages together.

All in all, it was a fun exercise. I was surprised at how similar some of our ideas were; it's nice to know we're on the same page. Our personalities were obvious, though: Trent emphasized more solitary activities; I emphasized social activities. It's true that one reason I want to do this is for the opportunity to meet a lot of people from various backgrounds.

It'll be interesting to look back on this in a few years and see whether we succeeded in "putting foundations under our castles in the air."