Two Months at Sea

I get emails that ask questions of my whereabouts and dealings of recent. I even get emails asking if we're still hiring or carrying certain books. It always makes me smile. One email stood out last week...someone wrote "I wish you were still blogging".

But what would you want to know? What platform and approach does my writing now occupy in the world at large? It's a busy place with no shortage of opinions and musings...That said, my blog was never a literary blog so the pressure to highlight books isn't there. In it's truest form, this blog has always been the passionate ramblings of a (now) 30-something. Albeit, organized and properly punctuated. So, if not for my own purgative purposes...I want to capture the journey now after two months of sailing (Ironically, it took the pilgrims about that amount of time to reach the new world).

It would be foolish to think that I have spent these months after leaving the dock staring out at the horizon with a Pina Colada in hand...I am working hard to cross the equivalent of the Atlantic in mid-winter wind gusts while manning the rigging alone. It would seem that closing a business is more than taking down shelves and locking the door behind you. Everyday I deal with mountains of paperwork, friendly letters form the State of Michigan, hordes of messages and mail from vendors that still require payment...Checks going out. No money coming in. It is indeed, one of the most difficult clean-ups I have encountered and I am more aware of Newton's law that states "for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction". It will be many years before the reactions for all of Nomad's action cease...and that makes me tired to think about.

BUT there have been moments when the wind dies down and I stand at the bow during sunset, allowing the sea to lull me back and forth. I'm soothed by the vision of home and made energized by the new territory ahead. It is all unknown. Even a bit scary and depressing at times. But I'm okay with that. I would turn back...not for anything. When people ask if I miss it, I have to restrain the certainty of my answer. Not for one day have I missed the amount of tenseness I was functioning under and hair pulling and sleepless nights. Not one morning have I longed to make the drive in and put in a full day again. I am more certain everyday that we made the right decision to pack and go.

So, there it is. I'm mid-Atlantic. Fighting everyday to cut the dang anchor and untangle the sails...but the view is awesome and the call of home so precious. Abraham Cowley (exiled English poet) wrote, "Curiosity does, no less than devotion, pilgrims make." And I am, above all, still very curious.

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