There is a poem by John Greenleaf Whittier that my friend, Chris Ammerman, reposted after she saw it on facebook. The title of the poem is “Don’t Quit.” Reading it first thing this morning calmed my nerves. My sleep had been interrupted several times with sinking thoughts of my newly purchased boat off to meet Davy Jones. I had a vision of water dribbling into the settee from a one inch scratch on the outer layer that never got sealed.
Thirteen of my fourteen previously owned sailboats were floaters. My Hobie’s, Supercats, and Marples 35 were filled with so much air and foam that I believed they would still float even if they were filled to the brim. My biggest trepidation with buying this boat is that it is heavy, like really, really, really heavy. It has a keel about five feet deep that is molded into the main structure. The keel is filled with lead or concrete or other such heavy stuff that easily proves it weighs more than water. In other words, if you fill the my newly acquired thirty three footer with water, you are doomed to toast Neptune at the bar in Davy Jones Locker. Not a pleasant thought.
After this restless sleep, I awoke to the sound of my wide-eyed brain shouting “Minimize your losses, sell the dam boat!” Like a bolt of lightning such a disparaging claim jolted me out of my bed. Forgetting my slippers I dashed onto the cold tile floor in my bathroom. Instinctively I sat on the toilet and lifted my feet while dispelling my morning pee. You know the relief you feel when your bladder finally empties? Thankfully that sensation brought me to my wits.
My promise to write at least five pages every day came to mind. I washed my hands, brushed my teeth, then gargled for a longer time than usual. Into the living room I stoked the wood stove, boiled water for coffee and began writing. This led to a bit of research. Not finding what I was looking for I turned to Facebook ready to post my question. There was Chris’s wonderful reminder to stay the course.
Whittier’s poem, “Don’t Quit” has now been married to my “Best Self” journal. The author of that book by Coach Bayer, instructed me to name my Best Self, I call her Sassea. (see previous blog Sassea Believes, Jan.2019)
With gratitude, I thank Chris for her re-post as I cherish the last line in Whittier’s epic poem: .
For all the sad words of tongue and pen, the saddest of these are:
It Might Have Been.