我站在海邊，孤立無援。
載我們上岸的小舟隨著湧漲的潮水不斷被推擠上岸，我費力的將它停留在沙灘區，不讓海水進一步將它推擠至礁岩密佈的岸上。，我四處張望，偌大的海灘與一望無際的海水只有我一人與我們的小舟。Rob上岸勘查，不知道何時回來。海水逐漸從腳踝上升至小腿，我彎著身子扶住船身，伸長脖子到處張望....
剎那間，我彷彿回到小學時，被爸媽給予在下課後與他們下班間空檔照顧弟弟重大任務的時刻。我伸長脖子盡力往家裡陽台下張望，卻不見弟弟回家身影。我的想像力飛馳，製造許多恐怖的場景，我擔心、我害怕。我被給予大於我可以負擔的任務而感到無法承受。
好笑的是，在海邊差點心臟病發作的場景之前，我才經歷過第一次自己掌舵控帆，讓Rob可以在船首負責起錨；我第一次在十幾節的強勁海風中掌舵一個多小時。甚至，當天晚上因毫無遮蔽的地形，使得船像喝醉酒般劇烈左右搖晃都沒有一個人扶著小舟讓我感到害怕，我開玩笑的對Rob說：「就當我們在母親的子宮裡，隨著羊水擺動吧！」
這只是旅程的第三天。我開始學習辨識現實中的害怕（風是否太大所以我們得換小一點的帆，海圖辨識方為是否正確讓我們平安繞過岩石區？），以及被啟動的恐懼（小舟畢竟不是弟弟啊！大不了可以划船走人待會再來接Rob)。我學習迅速累積知識與技術，讓不熟悉的恐懼轉為安心；我也學習怎麼滋養與平復自己被啟動的深層恐懼。
我仍會坐小舟上岸，仍會有一人看守小舟的機會，我可能孤立，但學習自在。
Translation:
I'm standing alone by the sea with no one to help me.
As the rising tide pushes our dinghy toward the rocks, I'm standing in the water using all my might to keep it over the sand and off the rocks. I look everywhere but all I see is the endless sea relentlessly rising and pushing our little boat toward the rocks, just me and the dinghy. Rob has gone ashore, and I don't know when he'll be back. The water has climbed over my ankles and up my calves.
I suddenly feel catapulted back to childhood. My parents asked me to take care of my little brother after school while they worked. I looked for him from our balcony and saw no sign of him. My imagination took flight and conjured up every kind of tragedy. I was worried and afraid. I'd been given too big of a responsibility. I felt incapable of fulfilling it.
The funny thing is, just before standing by the sea side having a heart attack I had just been sailing our boat single handed. I handled the tiller and sails so Rob could raise the anchor. It was also the first time I steered the boat entirely on my own for an extended period, more than an hour. And that very night in our exposed anchorage our boat rocked violently from side to side like a stumbling drunk. Not even that scared me as much as holding onto that dinghy by myself. I even said to Rob, “Just imagine we are in our mother's womb.”
This was only our third day of travel. I'm already learning how to differentiate between valid fears (Is the wind too strong? Do we need to change to a smaller head sail? Does the chart show us headed for rocks?) and triggered fears out of proportion to our situation (Our dinghy is not actually my little brother! There is nothing stopping me from rowing out a little and then rowing back in to pick up Rob). I'm learning how to pick up skills quickly and easing my fears of the unknown through experience and growing familiarity. I'm also learning how to tend to my triggered fears and nourish my fearful parts.
I still have opportunities to row the dinghy ashore, and opportunities to take care of the boat on my own. I may be alone, but I'm learning to be more at ease.
Translation:
I'm standing alone by the sea with no one to help me.
As the rising tide pushes our dinghy toward the rocks, I'm standing in the water using all my might to keep it over the sand and off the rocks. I look everywhere but all I see is the endless sea relentlessly rising and pushing our little boat toward the rocks, just me and the dinghy. Rob has gone ashore, and I don't know when he'll be back. The water has climbed over my ankles and up my calves.
I suddenly feel catapulted back to childhood. My parents asked me to take care of my little brother after school while they worked. I looked for him from our balcony and saw no sign of him. My imagination took flight and conjured up every kind of tragedy. I was worried and afraid. I'd been given too big of a responsibility. I felt incapable of fulfilling it.
The funny thing is, just before standing by the sea side having a heart attack I had just been sailing our boat single handed. I handled the tiller and sails so Rob could raise the anchor. It was also the first time I steered the boat entirely on my own for an extended period, more than an hour. And that very night in our exposed anchorage our boat rocked violently from side to side like a stumbling drunk. Not even that scared me as much as holding onto that dinghy by myself. I even said to Rob, “Just imagine we are in our mother's womb.”
This was only our third day of travel. I'm already learning how to differentiate between valid fears (Is the wind too strong? Do we need to change to a smaller head sail? Does the chart show us headed for rocks?) and triggered fears out of proportion to our situation (Our dinghy is not actually my little brother! There is nothing stopping me from rowing out a little and then rowing back in to pick up Rob). I'm learning how to pick up skills quickly and easing my fears of the unknown through experience and growing familiarity. I'm also learning how to tend to my triggered fears and nourish my fearful parts.
I still have opportunities to row the dinghy ashore, and opportunities to take care of the boat on my own. I may be alone, but I'm learning to be more at ease.
