The Storm

Welcome to "The Path," a blog where we delve into ancient wisdom teachings and explore their relevance in our modern lives. At the core of this journey is the transformative practice of yoga, as Yoga is a liberation teaching, given to us to help free us from the dramas and emotions of our daily lives.  In embarking on this path, two essential qualities must be present: desire and a steadfast commitment to practice. Our ultimate aim is to attain self-knowledge and awareness, not to dazzle others with our achievements, but to harmonize our spirit with our thoughts and actions, leading to a more fulfilling existence.

The Storm

The storm came out of nowhere, as if a switch had been flipped. It was not predicted for this overnight passage to the Dominican Republic.  Winds howled like angry spirits, and the sea churned violently beneath us. I was at the helm, the boat pitching precariously as a monstrous 12-foot wave rose behind us, its crest looming like a wall of water, poised to consume us whole. I thought this was it.  We were not going to survive.  My heart raced as I braced for impact, believing the wave would crush us. But the boat’s hull, sturdy and steadfast, scooped underneath, lifting the bow high into the air before crashing down with an earth-shattering thud.

“Tack! Tack!” Ken yelled over the roar of the storm, urgency lacing his voice. The autopilot had failed, leaving us to navigate this tumultuous night manually. We couldn't sail straight into the wave; doing so would surely drag the bow under, flipping our vessel like a toy in a bathtub. So, we adjusted our course, tacking diagonally through the monstrous waves, the boat heeling dangerously.

What a dramatic change to this trip south. At first, the night had a peace to it as we sailed from the Mayaguana Islands, and the gentle sway of the boat lulled me into a false sense of security. Stars sparkled overhead, and the moon cast silver ribbons on the waters, a serene backdrop for our journey to the Dominican Republic. Weather prediction was good. I didn’t like overnights…they were tiring and long, but I felt a sense of acceptance and peace.  However, as the hours passed, that tranquility was shattered when dark clouds gathered ominously on the horizon, and the wind picked up, swiftly transforming our calm voyage into a battle against nature.

As I wrestled with the helm, fear gnawed at my insides, a relentless reminder of my inexperience. In that chaos, I felt the boat fighting. This 30 ton vessel wrestling against forces beyond our control. I gave the helm to Ken and he held steadfast, a rock in the storm, a true Captain, while I sought refuge below the deck, desperately searching for solace.

I climbed into my bunk, a sanctuary from the overwhelming noise and chaos above. I closed my eyes, my hands clasped tightly in prayer. “Please, let us make it through this.” The words became my mantra, a lifeline amidst uncertainty. Time became a blur as the storm raged on. Each wave that crashed over us was a reminder of nature's might, but also of our resilience. Eventually, the storm began to wane, the winds dying down, and the waves subsided, revealing the stubbornly bright stars that had been hidden. I looked at Ken still at the helm, his expression one of relief mixed with triumph.  We were way off course and had to motor along the shoreline for quite a ways to get to the anchorage, but we didn’t care…we made it through our first big storm.

We had survived. The storm was an initiation, a brutal but necessary test of our vessel and our spirit. From that night forward, I knew that we were not just sailing a boat; we were aboard a seaworthy vessel that would protect us through the storms, an unwavering companion on this journey ahead. Journey, the name we chose for the boat, had gained my trust, and I have learned that trust will take you through even the scariest of times, and it was this trust that took me through the storms that awaited, with more resolve and less fear.

Namaste