Blue, blue, my world is blue....

Today, the Med is a vast blue plane, a perfect blue that shimmers between indigo and topaz. The sky is a corn blue inverted bowl, floating on a layer of blue haze. We've just had a guest leave us. The boat feels like a big quiet space again, our sustaining womb-home, suspended between these two big blue's.

Katapola harbour, Amogas

I'm reflecting on the impact of 'stories' on our lives. Our guest had powerful and compelling stories from her past, that she continually measured her present experience against. Nothing was as good, nothing measured up to that pale reflection of the past.

Farmer and Greek tractor coming into town

Where was she living? What was the reality of these past fleeting memories she was trying to inhabit? Why was current reality so poor that it was preferable to live inside a memory of something that happened decades ago. I asked her why she liked to travel. I was puzzled!

I answered my own question for her, and replied that I liked to travel so that I can experience the world as it really is. I don't want the media's description of the world, I don't want mine or anyone else's memories. I want the simple direct experience of my senses in contact with the surface of the world.

Simple colours on the surface of the world

I notice that the more time I spend on the boat, the more that I'm inhabiting this simple sensory world. It feels more real, immediate. The world of past stories and future plans seems to fade to nothingness. Any idea's I might have of myself, being a teacher or learner, sailor or traveller, striving for goals or attainments..... seem to all disappear. Any worries and concerns for the future are steadily and stealthily being replaced by an enduring sense of now.

Hora village, Amorgas

Sailing into Amorgas in a Force 6 blow, we had Pavlov really powered up. I was standing at the helm, sailing Pav like she was a surf-board. I was so tuned into her, I was riding her, we were vibrating together. I was singing silly songs at the top of my voice. The boat and I somehow merged, a moment of ecstasy, being in the zone.

Pav at the dock

Today, I am more reflective. Sitting between the blue of the sea and the blue of the sky, wending our slow way between the small islands and rocks of the Southern Cyclades, I feel a quiet peace steal over me. I realize that I travel just so I can be here now.

Our beloved Pavlov

That mantra from the seventies, Be Here Now, seems trite but it is so powerful. I no longer need to live in the stories of the past and future. Less and less time is pent there. The boat demands a kind of zen mindfulness. It reminds you of mind-less-ness by playfully stubbing your toe, or some other small nip of affection. In lots of small and larger ways, the boat drags us into a unity with it, with the surface of the world.

My heart fills up, my cup runs over. I'm here, its now.

Love of my life and I, Amorgos