wanderlust - 

[won-der-luhst] noun 1. a strong, innate desire to rove or travel about. - source: Merriam-Webster Dictionary

It write a lot. Not here as much, but in my trusty Moleskine. I find myself that I write more when I feel the need to escape or feel burnt out. I go back and read my entries and it seems I only have been writing when I have this sense of wanderlust. Where this desire comes from I don't know, but it nags at me when I get stressed out, when I get overwhelmed, but also when I am happy. The desire to just go somewhere is always something I love to do.

When I get these pangs of innate desire to rove, I usually turn to Netflix. Actually Netflix can be a catalyst for these things too. In March I found the documentary series, "The Long Way Round". It chronicled Ewan McGregor and Charly Boorman around the world from London, across Europe and through Asia eventually making their way across America to New York City, then back to London. Sounds awesome. What made this whole endeavor exciting is that they did it only on motorcycles. They had chase vehicles and a support team, but in the end, they rode their motor bikes as far as they could. Across terrain that you could barely walk. They stopped when they got tired, met interesting people. I was so enthralled, but at the same time telling myself I could never do that.

I guess this is the ultimate exercise in futility. I want to do these things, I want to experience traveling to all these places, but never actually try to plan, save, reduce money drains in my life to do any of these things.

Another documentary I was very curious to watch was "Tiny". It was about people who sold all their possessions and reduce their living area to about 200 square feet. The people love it, they talk about not letting their stuff take them over. I was so into this movie, all the while drowning in a house full of stuff we can't seem to let go of. Stored baby clothes. Stuffed animals that all have names and birth dates. Knickknacks with memories and sentimental values tied to them. Supplies for the art studio my wife and I would love to have. Dishes for a dining room we don't have. Wall art for a movie room we don't have.

Everywhere I look I am surrounded by stuff. Stuff we can't seem to ever put away. Stuff we don't really need. Stuff.

This past week I have been watching documentaries about sailing. See, on Labor day some friends, Justin and Jessica Mason, invited us out on their sail boat. They had just purchased the 39' vessel and this was the first big weekend they were taking it out. The wife, Addison, Audrey, and I met them at the dock, loaded the provisions we all brought, cast lines and off into Lake Erie we went for the day.

Sailing in Lake Erie off Cleveland on Labor Day (click to enlarge)

I have never felt more alive inside. The satisfying act of leaving a safe place and willingly going into a place that can turn on you is just exhilarating. I was quiet most of the day asking questions when I wanted to learn, but just allowing myself to be present in the moment. I took the camera out a little. Took some photos. We were in the breeze all day. When we got back to the yacht club, Wifey and Addison got off and drove home, and Audrey and I stayed on to help take the boat from Rocky River to Lorain another three to four hour sail. Jessica suffered a slight injury earlier in the day when the boom went hard from port to starboard, ripping the lines out of her hand and causing a slight burn. I know sailing needs lots of hands, and there was no way to get that boat from Rocky River with only Justin's hands especially with a breeze gusting up to 25 knots. So Audrey and I stayed on. I learned a lot about sailing that day. A lot more than when I sailed as a young kid on my Uncle's Catalina sailboat. I was just a passenger back then. When I was out with the Masons I felt like a part of the crew. Pulling lines, trimming sails, tossing dock lines. Cleaning seasickness out of the galley's sink when Audrey couldn't make it topside.

After experiencing the freedom of turning off the engine and being powered only by the wind, I need more of it. I stayed up most of the night last night watching youtube videos of a crew of people who 5 years ago left Seattle, Washington on S/V Delos. They have been shooting videos of their journey for 5 years. I watched every. single. one of the them. These people are living the dream. They didn't win the lottery. They weren't multi-millionaires. They were just some people that wanted to sail to untie from the crap they hated and go do something they loved.

Wifey said when we pulled into the marina that Labor Day morning, "I'd like to have a boat someday."

I would love a sailboat one day too, but is it the sailboat I want or the freedom that casting lines brings? Do I have a dream that involves getting rid of everything I own, distilling my life down to contents of a car and living on a sailboat? Yes. Why that is I don't know, but I look at it this way. Living on a sailboat is like living in a tiny house that travels. Takes both of these philosophies that people who live in tiny houses and sailors and combines it into one. And that is something I would like to work towards. The freedom to do what you want, and the uncluttering of my life down to the essentials.

Sometimes getting there IS the adventure.