Sunday, January 21, 2007
My Boat Story
I have been doing a lot of inner work lately because of issues I'm dealing with in my life, and in my search for the "me-ness" of my life, I have come up with a story that outlines one of my issues; not that I wish to "air my problems". I would, however, like to share things that may, in the long run help others while I'm learning to help myself. Okay, my boat story...
There was once a beautiful calm lake where many boats lived, surrounded by a peaceful wood in the mountains. Storms would come once in a while to this lovely place, as they do to any place, but not very often, and certainly not very rough. Most of the time, the sun was shining and the wind was gentle there. When the storms would come, however, all the boats would gather together on the dock and keep each other company, swapping fish stories and dreams of the sea until the bad weather passed and life got on as usual.
There was one little boat, that although the other boats would be calm and seemingly contented, would complain unceasingly about the storm and worry about sinking. "I hope I don't take on water, oh, I wish this awful storm would pass," on and on throughout the storm, she would panic. The other boats rolled their eyes and continued their maritime conversations. One old boat creaked as it leaned toward the little one, "one of these days, you're gonna worry yourself straight down to the bottom of the lake!" He winked kindly at her and continued, "These storms aren't bad at all. There's nothing to worry about, and we are right here to talk you through it."
But, the little boat didn't listen, and every time the wind picked up just a little, the boat would start a fearful tirade. "I'm going to sink, I'm going to sink!" She would have such a fit that she would start to rock as if there really was a storm, while all the other boats looked on and wondered why she was doing it. One day, she rocked herself so hard during a slight breeze that the rope which moored her to the dock came undone and she rocked herself right out into the middle of the lake. "See where I am? See where the storm has taken me? I'm surely going to sink!" and sink she did. Right down to the bottom of the lake she went, bubbling frantically all the way, while up above on the surface of the water, the sun was shining and the water was calm.
When her fisherman found her missing, he asked the old boat if he knew anything about it, and the old boat nodded sadly motoring the fisherman out to the middle of the lake where the little boat had sunk herself. After much trouble and effort on the part of the fisherman and some of the other boats, the little one was lifted out of the lake and brought up to the shore for repair. The fisherman was glad to have her back, but he clucked at her disapprovingly. The old boat, however, floated quietly beside her on the dock and understood, because once, when he was young, something similar had happened to him. "I learned to ask myself a long time ago, whether the storm was rocking the boat, or the boat was rocking the boat. The day I sunk myself, out there in the very same spot you went down, was the day old Bessie over there at the end of the dock caught the biggest fish in the lake. The sun was shining and the fish were waiting for us, but I was too worried about what I thought was a storm to enjoy it, and ended up spending the rest of that record fish-catching week at the bottom of the lake." The little boat sniffled a little while the wind picked up. "So tell me little one, what did YOU see down there?"
The little boat's eyes lit up with laughter, "There was a HUGE fish, with big spots that just stared at me, and then..." and as a storm began to brew, the little boat began to tell her fish tale to the old boat, unaware of the wind and the rain.
There was once a beautiful calm lake where many boats lived, surrounded by a peaceful wood in the mountains. Storms would come once in a while to this lovely place, as they do to any place, but not very often, and certainly not very rough. Most of the time, the sun was shining and the wind was gentle there. When the storms would come, however, all the boats would gather together on the dock and keep each other company, swapping fish stories and dreams of the sea until the bad weather passed and life got on as usual.
There was one little boat, that although the other boats would be calm and seemingly contented, would complain unceasingly about the storm and worry about sinking. "I hope I don't take on water, oh, I wish this awful storm would pass," on and on throughout the storm, she would panic. The other boats rolled their eyes and continued their maritime conversations. One old boat creaked as it leaned toward the little one, "one of these days, you're gonna worry yourself straight down to the bottom of the lake!" He winked kindly at her and continued, "These storms aren't bad at all. There's nothing to worry about, and we are right here to talk you through it."
But, the little boat didn't listen, and every time the wind picked up just a little, the boat would start a fearful tirade. "I'm going to sink, I'm going to sink!" She would have such a fit that she would start to rock as if there really was a storm, while all the other boats looked on and wondered why she was doing it. One day, she rocked herself so hard during a slight breeze that the rope which moored her to the dock came undone and she rocked herself right out into the middle of the lake. "See where I am? See where the storm has taken me? I'm surely going to sink!" and sink she did. Right down to the bottom of the lake she went, bubbling frantically all the way, while up above on the surface of the water, the sun was shining and the water was calm.
When her fisherman found her missing, he asked the old boat if he knew anything about it, and the old boat nodded sadly motoring the fisherman out to the middle of the lake where the little boat had sunk herself. After much trouble and effort on the part of the fisherman and some of the other boats, the little one was lifted out of the lake and brought up to the shore for repair. The fisherman was glad to have her back, but he clucked at her disapprovingly. The old boat, however, floated quietly beside her on the dock and understood, because once, when he was young, something similar had happened to him. "I learned to ask myself a long time ago, whether the storm was rocking the boat, or the boat was rocking the boat. The day I sunk myself, out there in the very same spot you went down, was the day old Bessie over there at the end of the dock caught the biggest fish in the lake. The sun was shining and the fish were waiting for us, but I was too worried about what I thought was a storm to enjoy it, and ended up spending the rest of that record fish-catching week at the bottom of the lake." The little boat sniffled a little while the wind picked up. "So tell me little one, what did YOU see down there?"
The little boat's eyes lit up with laughter, "There was a HUGE fish, with big spots that just stared at me, and then..." and as a storm began to brew, the little boat began to tell her fish tale to the old boat, unaware of the wind and the rain.
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Denise, I just stopped by to view your site and to say Hi.
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