I love and I fear the Oceans and Seas.
I love the memories of them. The smell of salt on the beaches of islands so remote as to have been forgotten to all but the most intrepid. The feel of sand so soft on secluded beaches so calm and beautiful. The taste and feel of warmth and calm and the sight of clear blue glass so gently swaying with the currents. The great force of swells in the Pacific and the inviting calm of the Indian, the promise of the Atlantic and the history of the Mediterranean.
I love them, these waters full of life and happiness and hope.
I fear them, these waters filled with rage and purpose and loss.
I fear the waves so high they give the air pause. I fear the swells so great that living things dare not approach. I fear the depths, those depths which take life and hope as readily as light and air.
I stand before the water in awe, understanding so well how my ancestors would revere and curse the Oceans and Seas in the same breath.
And yet I, like my ancestors before me, am continuously drawn to the water. I find peace in the mountains, calm in the forests, peaceful solitude in the deserts. Yet the fear of the water only fuels my desire to weather the danger, if only in anticipation of what must lie beyond the waves.
I sought for so long to control those waves, those currents. To control the Ocean meant to control your own ship; this was so wrong, on reflection. We can’t control the currents any more than we can control life around us. In life, as on the water, we can only consider our surroundings, whether they be winds or currents, waves or tides, and sail our vessels not with intention to force our surroundings to change their very nature, but with purpose and direction and an eye on the destination, with clear understanding that the only way past the storm may be right through it.
The waves will come, the storms will strike, the wind will throw even the best of ships off course.
Yet these obstacles, these terrifying reminders of the greatness of nature are not only to be feared and respected. They are a testament to the ability man has to be equally as ferocious, equally as merciless as the beast of open water.
We know the dangers that lay before us, yet we are capable of venturing ahead regardless.
We understand the perils that await us in the open, yet we proceed regardless.
We are ships, and though the port may provide all the safety we need, to be anchored was not our purpose.
To sail ahead to seek more from the world, that love is far greater than the fear of the journey.
It MUST be greater.
The fishermen know that the sea is dangerous and the storm terrible, but they have never found these dangers sufficient reason for remaining ashore.
Vincent Van Gogh.
There are some things you learn best in calm, and some in storm.
It is only in sorrow bad weather masters us; in joy we face the storm and defy it.
I really don't know why it is that all of us are so committed to the sea, except I think it's because in addition to the fact that the sea changes, and the light changes, and ships change, it's because we all came from the sea. And it is an interesting biological fact that all of us have in our veins the exact same percentage of salt in our blood that exists in the ocean, and, therefore, we have salt in our blood, in our sweat, in our tears. We are tied to the ocean. And when we go back to the sea - whether it is to sail or to watch it - we are going back from whence we came.
John F. Kennedy
John F. Kennedy
To reach a port we must set sail –
Sail, not tie at anchor
Sail, not drift.
Franklin D. Roosevelt
I am not afraid of storms for I am learning how to sail my ship.
Louisa May Alcott
If you want to build a ship, don't drum up people to collect wood and don't assign them tasks and work, but rather teach them to long for the endless immensity of the sea.
Antoine de Saint-Exupery
If the highest aim of a captain were to preserve his ship, he would keep it in port forever.
I've been wondering where the end of the stream is ... I haven't been able to think about anything else. I didn't sleep a wink all night. At last, I decided to go and find where the stream ends. I want to know what's happening in other places.
The Little Black Fish By: Samad Behrangi