Broadening Horizons

It’s been 4 years in the making. I had to renovate portions of the barn to build a shop, ran programming to subsidize rent, weathered the epidemic, and alternately nurtured/was supported by this project that has gotten all tangled up in the fiber of my current existence. It was neglected as other projects came in the door and things like side work and tending to my crumbling marriage took precedence. As these things winnowed away, I took 8 months to fortify the barn and build a studio. After establishing my living space, this kayak has been the perfect scapegoat for my overabundance of emotion and the perfect excuse for solitary introspection. What has manifested from this period of my life are physical representations of me, wrapped into my studio and this boat.

And now I’m nearing the completion of this chapter. And the question looms: What lies beyond the horizon of this project? It has grown to be as much a part of me as anything during this time. I’ve grown to dwell in the toil of this Endeavor to the extent that it feels like I’ll be giving up a part of my identity upon christening this vessel. And that’s scary.

I’ve been here before. Training for months for a specific event, completing an epic trip, achieving a bucket-list goal. It’s exhilarating and terrifying. I find myself freaking out over the last details, throwing up illusory roadblocks to its success. Wondering if the layers of epoxy and fiberglass will take, and cure properly. Or will I sand through them as I fair out edges and seam lines? Will this thing float on the level and track properly? My late nights, early mornings, and kid-free weekends are consumed with finishing this thing. I’m over extended, under-rested, and I can’t stop. It’s manic.

It’s also enlightening. As I reach my limits of fatigue and mental endurance, I’m learning to breathe through the crisis moments. I’m seeing what I’m made of as I work my way through this test.

I keep telling myself a revolution will take place with the completion of this boat. A chapter of my life behind me, and a new one afoot. I’ll eat better, rest more, and hydrate regularly. I’ll take leisure time and get out socially. Will things change? Undoubtedly so. I’ll be out on the water more, refocusing energy, and moving on to using this boat rather than building it. Will I change in the ways I hope to? Chill out more, take on lucrative Endeavors, and practice more self care? We’ll see.

One funny parallel to this project has been the weather. I’ve been hoping to finish this boat before the weather turns and spring irresistibly draws me outside and to the water. I’ve fixated on this point to the degree that I’ll take the blame for the absurdly cold weather we’ve been having. More mornings in April with fresh snow than the entirety of the winter we’re emerging from. I didn’t finish the boat in time for a timely spring, and now the weather is waiting for me. Sorry folks.

For me, though, it’s been a very long winter. Years of vocational frustration, marital stress, and existential doubt. I’ve not been so insecure in who I am and what I’m doing here since high school. Thank goodness I’ve had my kids to keep me grounded. But I’d resolved that kids cannot be the sole purpose for existence. If we’re here to merely procreate and our species kills the rock that sustains us, then we are as inherently destructive as cancer cells. There needs to be more that we contribute. More to the growth and development of our Selves. So I went back to the root of what helped pull me from the insecurity I felt in my youth-personal growth and achievement. It so happens that the biggest contributor to my sense of self worth in that period was the construction of Ripple, my first canoe. How appropriate that a boat is again the vessel to lift me out of this slump.

Stories already abound from side-ventures that sprang from this project. Friends borrowing tools and shop space for their own use, the value I’ve added to this property through work on the barn, educational programs that foster community and new friendships, and drawing closer to one of my best friends who resumed work on an unfinished boat to pass to his family as he was dying of cancer. As the next chapter unfolds, I have no doubt it’ll be as rich as this process has been so long as I stay faithful to the voice that drew me to undertake this project. If only I can be attentive to its Whisper.

There are glimpses of what lies beyond this horizon, and the possibilities are bigger and more challenging than ever. This kayak was built for expeditioning on the great lakes. I am gearing up to buy property and am drawn to cooperatives and resource sharing. I’d like to revisit programming and education. I thirst to live closer to the land and water.

The possibilities depict a map with many options. The sensations that have washed over me as I’ve worked in timeless bliss on this boat serve as a tuning fork for following the voice that has become a compass. The experience and skills developed from the trades, nonprofits, international community organization, and educational programming are coming together to set the means for achieving the next horizon.

In writing this, it occurs to me that the vastness of the horizon I’m approaching is what makes it scary. Like cresting a monster wave. But what lies beyond is bound to be more rife with potential and growth than anything so far, so long as I stay true to my gut, the voice of which got me here.

As I pause for a moment to take stock of my location, heading, speed, and acceleration, the equation that articulates these derivatives paints a beautiful picture. I can’t wait to see what’s on the other side. Winter has been long and cold, but the coming spring is holds more promise than ever.

Endeavor