Godspeed

“Godspeed,” wrote a friend recently, wishing me well on my journey. Upon reflection, I realized that the speed of god is not my speed. It is the speed at which things actually happen, whether I like it or not. Impatience is a strong suit: she runs me ragged and belittles self-care. Why aren’t you heading south already? Loser! I hate it here! Let’s go! But there’s only one of me, and I solve problems best when I’m within my comfort zone. Far less screaming.

I returned to the marina safely last week, and docked alone. Yes! The body remembers. On to the next task – the anchoring system. How’s it hangin’? 

Audrey Kayak is drying on deck, soon to be folded (only three feet by two!) and stowed. And the word is out: I’m looking for a buddy boat, captained by someone familiar with the coast down to Puerto Vallarta, about 200 miles away. We will sail together, each on her own vessel, staying within radio contact. 

Fear of leaving is giving way to the excitement of going. It’s almost time. I’m going through the UnHitch List, line by line. At the speed of god.