But that I followed a path that was never right for me is a decision that cannot be undone. What I can do now is live my life to the fullest, be as free as I possibly can, plot a course away from the grid, toward freedom, independence, and adventure. I still hold hope that along the way I will drag anchor into a like-minded soul who wants to raft-up together for this journey. Love is very rare to me, but I would rather hold out for it than ever settle again.
Skeptics were in no short supply when I announced in early August that I was going to buy a boat and move aboard. Within two months I closed on my boat and moved in. I joke to other liveaboards that the dreamers in online forums with their five, ten, or twenty year plans to move aboard and cast off the lines are really on a forty-year-plus plan and the closest they'll get to living aboard and cruising is a Viking funeral. No boat will ever be perfect, or ready, or have enough equipment or supplies. I wanted to be the master of my domain and of my destiny, and so I jumped in. I knew that life aboard had long been meant for me; in that, I have never doubted myself for even a moment. I never even planned to be a cruiser any time soon, do not yet know how to sail, yet now it pains me to be tied to a dock. I cannot wait to cast off the lines and let my real life begin.
|Hunter wide-eyed peeking into the galley as I cook|
|Me and pup dog|
|Living the dream?|
|Where's my fruity rum drink!|
|My view from the hatch door yesterday morning|
|Gonna have to bail the dinghy out when the snow melts|
Although the floppy-haired sailor guy (ab)used this song to seduce me, it rings true to my heart and I can finally listen to it without tears. My real life will begin out on the water, with the waves crashing over the bow. Waiting For My Real Life to Begin