Getting Ready

My hands are sore from sewing. The finish-work on a well-made sail is done by hand. A leather 'sailor's palm' with a divotted metal cup, the equivalent of an industrial-strength thimble is used to push the needle through the cloth and leather. After hours and hours of work, I only have a few more hours of work to do.

This is the second sail. We have at least one more to go.

My heart is sore too.

As over-whelming as it may feel to sew to the point of bloodshed, the simple act of sewing sails is only a tiny part of getting ready for the journey. I could list a page's worth of tasks left to do just to get the boat ready. I could talk in depth and at length about the skills I still need to learn to make safe passages in the far north.

But as large and as important as these tasks are, getting ready to share my life is the hardest.

Having survived the painful demise of one marriage, living with my heart open to another person feels dangerous and even foolhardy. The currents and rocks of Canada's coastal waters bring a far less threatening fear than the currents and rocks that appear in relationship.

As this journey draws near, I find myself face to face with my biggest fears. Doubts blow in and cloud my vision, darkening everything I see. I wonder if I am fit for relationship. I wonder if I am somehow doomed to fail. I yearn for reassurance. I want to know that everything will be ok.

And so I learn as best as I can the arts of navigation—truth-telling and commitment, acknowledgement and affection. I also learn the art of maintenance, of fixing each rift in the fabric of relationship. Even the best built boat will sink if not well maintained. I practice as best as I can patience, acceptance, and forgiveness.

And I remember what beauty we are building together. I revel in the courage it has taken each of us to make such a large decision, to not only launch a life together, but to launch it together in a small sailboat on a journey far larger than either of us has ever attempted before.

The thought brings a smile to my face. I feel tremendous gratitude for the opportunity.

Gratitude and faith are like light coming in to dispel the darkness of my doubts.

My heart may be sore and tired. My hands may be raw. I still have much work to do and probably a few more storms left to face. But the work is coming along apace.

Jiayu arrives Tuesday. I wonder how well my sails will set?

(翻譯）

我的雙手疲累不堪。親自車縫的帆布最後有許多手縫工作需要完成。帆布與皮革如此厚重，我需要套上一個皮製的手套，在拇指下方有塊圓形金屬，如同工業用的嵌環，幫助我施力將針線推入。在無數個小時的奮鬥之後，我只剩下幾小時就可以完成。

這是第二片帆布。我們至少還有一片帆布需要完成。

而我的心也疲累不堪。

即使親手縫製帆布幾乎是血淚交織的過程，這個簡單的動作只是準備啟程的一小部分。要將船準備好，我輕而易舉的可以列出一整頁的待完成工作清單，我也可以滔滔不絕、長篇大論的敘述我還需要學習的航行技術，讓我們可以安然航行於北方荒野。

但是即使這些挑戰如此龐大與重要，我發覺最大的困難其實是準備好要分享我的生活。

經歷過前一次的婚姻風暴之後，再次對另一個人敞開我的心懷讓我感覺危險與莽撞。相較之下，加拿大沿海的潮流與礁石遠比親密關係中的暗潮與阻礙更不具威脅性。

當啟程日期越來越接近，我發覺自己終於與我最大的恐懼面對面。猶疑如雲朵般飄入，遮蔽我的視野。我懷疑自己是否適合親密關係，我擔心我是否注定失敗。我渴望確定感，我希望一切都會圓滿。

所以，我盡全力學習航行過此迷霧的藝術──誠實與承諾，接納與情感表達。我也學習維修的藝術，縫補關係中撕裂的碎片。完美打造的船舶若沒有適度維修也終會下沈。我盡力的練習耐心、接納、與原諒。

然後，我記起我們一同建造的美。我佩服我們兩人做如此大決定的勇氣。我們不只是要共同開始我們的生活，還要在一艘小船裡，一起經歷我們從未有過的長途旅程。

這個想法為我的臉上添加一抹微笑。我對於有如此機會充滿感激。

感激與信念如同光線，驅趕走猶疑帶來的陰暗。

我的心也許倦怠與疲累；我的手也許傷痕纍纍，我仍然有許多工作要完成。也許還有風暴要面對。但是，一切似乎飛快的進展著。

Jiayu星期二就來了。我新縫製好的帆布不知是否好用？