The funny thing about a dream is that unless you take action it will remain a dream. Without action Dream is ephemeral. Dream is far-off. Dream is someday… When you follow your dream and it starts to happen it becomes reality and reality is hard work.
I was working at a horrible (absolutely soul-sucking, mind-twisting, wretched) job and, in a moment of despair, wondered about what life would look like if I were truly happy. Would that mean another job? Well, yes, but that would only make me happy in the short term. Was it moving to another city? Not really, I love New York and there’s really no reason to just up and leave… What would be The Thing that would allow me to relax my shoulders, lose the scrunched up look to my face, sleep at night? Sailing around the world on a sailboat. The answer came to me almost as quickly as I asked myself the question. In a flash I could see the blue water, feel the sun and the wind, I could almost taste the salt air. In that instant I had found my dream.
So, a dream goes on. I told my Better Half about it when I got home that night. The sea virtually flows in his veins but he had never ventured to suggest such a thing to me. He was excited. I was excited. We looked at a really, really expensive boat that was pretty but didn’t sail worth a darn. We got a little less excited when we figured on how much of a payment that would be. We didn’t want a boat payment; we wanted to be free. Reality set in. Maybe in a few years. Maybe if our business takes off. Maybe, maybe, maybe… I got a new and much better job. I kept the dream as a little spark, a little jewel in the back of my mind that I could take out and examine once in a while. But it started to tarnish. It started to fade. I thought about all the reasons why it was a stupid dream. It was hard. It couldn’t be done. We renewed the lease on our apartment. Comfort and ease and familiarity were winning.
Then: Christmas. All the trappings and gee gaws and bustle and stress and money and expectations came rushing into our lives full force. I, again, had a vision: an alternative to the madness; a different Christmas’s celebration aboard our boat. Nothing but some pine boughs wrapped around the mast, some ornaments and a nice breakfast. The dream was back. It was strong and it wouldn’t let go of my mind.
It’s been said Where there’s a will there’s a way. This is true. Sometimes all it takes is to be open to the possibilities of what hasn’t been considered before. I had the Will, my brain gave me the Way. No financial advisor is going to suggest this Way (then again, I would say that no financial advisor is going to suggest much of what we’re doing. Read what I write at your own risk). We scraped together what we could and we bought a boat. A boat that sails (we hope). A boat that immediately felt like Home.
Now, buying a boat is awesome if you’re going to sail your boat on the weekends and love it and come back to your house full of all the things you have collected throughout your life. Buying a boat is scary if you’re going to live on your boat and you have to get rid of almost everything you have collected throughout your life. No furniture is needed (note: sell furniture). No large wall spaces (note: sell or store artwork). Not a lot of storage (note: purge like you’re saving your most treasured possessions from a fire). Where does that leave us? We have sold most of our furniture and are in the process of selling the rest of it. We are paring down our clothes, kitchen items, books, knick-knacks, art… What’s left? A lot. We have found someone to take on a new lease on our apartment and we have 25 days left until they move in.
There have been dark moments, to be sure. The day I decided that there was no possible way for any of this to be accomplished was particularly rough. How is this ever going to work?!?!? The funny thing is that I know in my soul that we are on the right path. Everything is falling into place even better than we could have planned it to. There are no insurmountable obstacles. My head sometimes gets in the way but we own a boat. A boat that is going to be our new home. A boat that we love. A boat that is the manifestation of a dream. There’s no going back.
4 thoughts on “There’s no going back”
Ooh, I can relate to so much of this. We bought a dilapidated boat and my husband renovated her completely. I had to get rid of everything, all my clothes, possessions, furniture. I know how you must have felt! Now we live aboard permanently and dont have a home on land. We don’t have much money, but we are free!
Ultimately, stuff is just stuff, isn’t it? For me it all came down to perspective and priorities… That being said, it ain’t easy!