We made it to Florida! We passed through Hells Gate. We dealt with the constant turns and troubles of the Georgia waterway. We made it through the Great Dismal Swamp. We survived a gale while aground. We managed to not get run down by a speeding container ship. We met many wonderful people, and we have seen so many wonderful places.

The north Florida savannah

And, today we crossed into sunny Florida. The arctic blasts from the south have stopped, and warmer winds are prevailing. The Carolinas are getting hammered with sleet and freezing rain, and we’ve made it just far enough south to escape the slop. Whew!

What a relief!

The days are short. The solstice is near. We get up before dawn, anchor before sunset, and sleep after dark. Every day we see the sun rise and set. We watch the stars to see Polaris descend slowly the further south we migrate. Herons and cranes and pelicans surround us. We marvel at the reflections that we see in the water. We sample oysters from the sea. Salt is everywhere. The marshes extend like great grasslands and savannahs for miles around us.

The forests are a complicated mixture of great live oaks that extend above like enormous protecting arms covered with flowing and dangling wisps of Spanish moss. Tall pines tower towards the sky and shelter palms in their shade. Jungles of fan leaved palms intertwine with small cacti on the forest floor. Here you would need a sharp machete and sturdy boots to make your way through the woods. There are no rocks. Only sand lies beneath the life, and that sand is infiltrated by salt. Salt is everywhere.

With the cold behind us, we remember our bodies. We emerge from countless layers of insulation to recall our skin. Our toes still have yet to touch the sand. Our bodies still have yet to submerge in the waters, yet the waters are warming.

I remember to breathe. Stress suppresses the diaphragm. After the sun descends beneath the western horizon and the colors bleed quickly from the endless sky, the mind is awash with business. The tendrils of the rat race are slow to die, and I must use my will to command my self to relax.

It’s okay to relax.

It’s okay to relax.

I tell myself this over and over in the night. Here, now, I do not have to “do” in order to exist. Here, now, I can “be.”

We are “human beings” after all, aren’t we?!…

I feel the pull to make to-do lists. I feel the addictions to business trying with all their might to drive me to action, but here, now, there is nothing that I “need” to do.

How completely I had defined myself by what I did before we left. The “doings” became my identity. Here, now that I have let go of that, I find myself searching for handles on which to hold. Who am I if I am not a doctor? Who am I if I do not have a home on land?

Everyone asks where we are from. It is a nauseating question. Everyone asks what we do. More nausea ensues. We are living, breathing, vibrant creatures here, now. Let’s play! Places are important, but states and countries are only lines drawn on maps by powerful men. They do not unite. They divide.

At night I fight the urge to do. If I am not doing, then what am I to do? I tell myself that it is okay to relax. It is okay to take a break. It is okay to have a vacation or to change from a state of doing to a state of being.

Why do we work so hard and have all of these conveniences if not to have more free time? Isn’t that what we all want? Don’t we all want more time to explore our inner selves, our relationships, our passions and interests? If we are surrounded and awash in noise, how can we hear the voice of God?

Here, now, we find everyday that we are being guided by forces at work behind the unfolding story of our lives. Call them “accidents” or “coincidences” or as Jung put it so eloquently, “synchronicities.”

I am learning not only to trust my intuition but to rely on it. Countless times I have felt the need to do a particular thing, like look over my shoulder only to see a fast oncoming boat that I had not noticed before. When I’ve gotten the sudden “out of the blue” thought to check the gas can, I have found it empty and changed to the second tank just in time to keep the engine from quitting. I used to call such things strange. Now I am beginning to relax into trusting these clear moments of guidance.

People ask us where we are going. We don’t know.

The feedback that we are getting from God reinforces our faith that we will be shown our way. The right door will open for us when we are ready for it. Until then, all we have to do is decide what to do in the moment. It is a beautiful way to live.

We are not encumbered by the morning drudgery of plugging into the capitalist system. For many it has been a blessing, but for many it drowns out the guidance of God.

Guidance is often spoken softly in your ear.

If you are surrounded by noise, you very well may miss it.

Blessings and well-wishes to you on this December evening from Wee Happy. Thanks for checking it.

Capt’n K & Lala.