To You, Dear Sailors

Hey hey, been a minute.

     I guess it was just wishful thinking when I said I'd try and keep this a regular thing, but Captain's back, bay-bee! Been getting back into a kind of creative groove lately, a bit of writing, more drawing than usual... it's nice. For a while I really wanted to finally add Entry #2 but I had hit a dry patch in terms of meaningful writing, I've got like three drafts that'll either get worked on later or just deleted because they were sleepless nonsense. But I've actually retained a little sliver of pride for this ol' chestnut, partially because it's some of the better advice I've given, even if I never said it to anyone.
     I've always been better giving my two cents when it's had time to grow on paper (or I guess through text), and this is no exception. A while back, a good friend of mine and I were driving home late at night from a friend's place after something of a disheartening event, and it wasn't hard to tell it had kinda hit him hard (hell it induced a kind of dull shock in me). I wasn't pushing to talk about it, but the whole way back I was trying to think of something meaningful to say, stirring my inner wise old man for a bit of sage advice. Bits and pieces came to mind but nothing that would come out as coherent, so I just cracked a few jokes and let 'em have the aux (a seemingly minor courtesy, but as a pretentious ass who has a playlist catered to many-a-mood, I was itching to plug in my picks the whole drive). I dropped him off, let him know I've got his back, and bid him goodnight, but I was up for at least another hour scribbling out what I'd been thinking to say in the car, and this is what came to be:

To the sailor tied at port

With knots done twice and sail secured,

I ask you, what still keeps you there?

What holds your vessel somber moored?

Perhaps a lass, with shining eyes

And lips that call you to the shore?

To recount your tales and sage advice,

To console her heart, too often sore,

And once your kindness starts to bore,

To leave you all alone once more.

Perhaps you sense a brewing storm,

The rearing of a godly hand?

No, best stay here in waters shallow,

To abandon ship and rest on sand,

For a sailor sunk below the waves

May never again set foot on land.

Or maybe, after idle days,

This ship seems less familiar now.

How long since you've been at the helm,

Or felt the spray blown from the bow?

And even if you left this dock,

Where would you go? Would you know how?

Uncertainties, they plague your mind

Oh sailor, head so full of storms.

Might I offer some advice

In hope a clearer pathway forms?

To dwell on doubts, to live in fear,

Will rot a man's still-beating heart.

This ship is under your command,

Do you not decide when you depart?

If this land brings only strife,

The open ocean calls to you.

Cut loose your ties, unfurl your sail,

Set your sights on islands new,

Let the freer man prevail,

And set a course that does right by you.

     Though I wrote this with the previously mentioned dear friend at heart, the message stands for anyone feeling trapped or lost. Uncertainty is a deep hole we often dig ourselves, sometimes deep enough to get lost in the dark; to lose sight of your ability to climb back out. I've been in that hole. My father, who I have a titanic admiration for, has told me of times he's been in that hole, and his father before him. It's not anomalous to find yourself feeling tied down or lost, but bearing in mind we as a species have been mapping out our own minds for ages, it's not impossible to overcome that feeling. If you feel like you're trapped at that dock, reach out. Talk to your family, your friends, a therapist, hell, shoot me a text if you'd like. Very rarely are we ever truly alone, often times it's just a matter of extending a hand.
     So harbor no fear of what lies ahead. You come from a long line of adventurers and scholars and wonderful, curious human beings. Do them proud, o' sailor dear.

End Captain's log.