The Freya Cutter turned out to be very interesting. The owner sailed quite a bit and really had a mind towards safety in his rig. I apprecited the little extra’s like the permenant boom brake that had a line leading back to the cockpit. Shay however, didn’t like her. The layout did have a couple issues but I could have lived with it I think. Neither of us were excited about her in the end, and to tell the truth I forgot about her a few hours later.
After returning home I sold the last piece of furniture from our house.
When it came time to let go, I had a surprising reaction. A wave of saddness washed over me and I wanted to lay myself across the credenza and hug the old thing. It inhabited the front entrance to our house and was used for dish and silver storage; flowers were placed on it during the summer time; pictures of our family were spread across the surface.
Reflecting on this strong reaction to a piece of furniture, I realized how emotional challenging selling our house, moving from our small town, and not being surrounded by all the stuff fthat makes up a house has been. (There is no room in a trailer, even for pictures or artwork!)
It’s amazing how being surrounded by all your “stuff” creates a feeling of safety and security. I know this is an illusion, a lamp can’t create security. A credenza doesn’t make me feel safe. I know I project this onto my home and my belongings, but remembering this during stressful times when life feels out of control, is fairly challenging for me.
One of the reasons we both have been attracted to Buddhist philosphy is non-attachment to stuff. Neither one of us is typically attached to belongings, as we discovered on our trip to England. While we were gone for a month we missed absolutely nothing from home, nor our home even. We only missed Mowgli and our friends.
We certainly enjoy any belongings we have, but we don’t need them, feel defined by them or care what others think of them. We enjoy function. We appreciate beauty but prefer the beauty of nature: the view of Mt. Rainier in the morning, the magic blue color of the sea at dusk. These joys are far more valuble than a couch.
However the past couple months of transition has been very difficult emotionally. What I find that I miss is our art; paintings, pictures, pictures of family and special items. And of course our house, our yard, living in Enumclaw, laundry room and garage also. We can’t be gypsy’s while living in Enucmlaw and forced to do yard work and house projects every weekend!
It’s werid having so many confilicting emotions over the change. Happy that we are moving forward and out from under that physical drain of owning an old home. Life is easier now, no lawn, garden, house to clean. It takes less than 30 minutes to clean and organize the entire trailer! Our weekends are now free to play and shop for sailboats, be lazy and visit friends. I look forward to the summer when we can spend our free time sailing and sailing and sailing!
I knew this transition would be hard, but it’s difficult to know exactly how it would effect us, and in what ways. Like learning how to live half out of your car since the trailer is too small to store everything. Shopping every 3 days due to a tiny fridgerator, using a small shower with small hot water tank, small closets, small, small, small.
I think this is a good transition to living on a boat. Getting used to dealing with small and with all the tanks and systems aboard. These are good things ultimately and just an inconvienence right now until we become adjusted.
Still, I am sad at the loss of a lifestyle. We will never again own a home in Enumclaw, close to our good friends, where I know everyone in town by first name, from the pharmacist, to the grocery clerks and bank tellers.
Our life is not so sheltered now, it feels more insecure, transitory. Which is what we need to learn to love: gypsyness. To love the freedom of a simple life, being a rebel to this excessive consumer based society. To choose purposely to live for a passion, to rely on oneself for happiness, find what is at the center of one’s self and life when distractions and attachments are stripped away.
This has become a spiritual lesson. Who am I, who are we without a house? Without our stuff? How will we handle this transition? Will it ever feel safe and secure like our old way of life did? Instead, will something else arise that is infinitely better?
This path is leading us down a life-changing adventure and I only need to care for today, this moment, the next step. Learning to let go of control or the illusion that I have control, and trusting the universe, is a lesson I’m sure will take a lifetime to achieve. For now I will attempt to surrender to not being in control, mourn the loss of a lifestyle, welcome my new home and way of life, and wait to see what spring brings.
