Becoming a sailor

Semilla 8.       15.08.2007. Australia

Becoming a sailor is not simply getting on a boat and going to the sea.

Many things come before that—like knowing how to repair the boat.

During the last three days I have been in the boatyard with my friend Mowgli, the owner of the boat. We have worked very hard. First, the workers at the yard lifted the boat out of the sea with a crane. It was an exact and precise operation. I had never seen how a boat could be taken out of the water like that. Even though ours is a small boat, I still wonder how they manage to lift the really big ones.

Once the boat was on land, we started the work. The first task was cleaning the organic material that had grown on the hull. It felt like the world itself was teaching me how a journey begins: by working with the boat, by preparing it with patience.

While writing this, I paused. In that moment I felt like an eagle looking through a window that opens onto the universe, letting something speak through me. There is nothing more to do than create with the soul of nature and the imagination that comes from God.

The soul of a sailor is always changing, always searching—for adventures, for lovers, for friends. It seems that everything I have lived so far has been preparing me, teaching me the real tools needed to survive in the world. Perhaps the most important lesson is simply understanding that travel is one of the deepest human dreams.

We must accept both the power and the limits of being human.

There is a myth that life does not really belong to us. Perhaps what moves us is an illusion—the illusion of the journey, the illusion of distant lands. That illusion has taken hold of me more strongly than ever before. I only need to follow that truth inside me. Sometimes an illusion, if followed with enough faith, can become reality.

Once in my life I was very close to beginning a great journey. But it was not the right moment then. I had to wait six more years before going overseas. And even now, while preparing this boat, I feel that I am simply moving toward the next station on the path.

Watching these men work so hard reminds me how important it is to develop many skills—skills that can sustain any kind of work during the voyage.

Honestly, my job is not difficult. I do not want much. I do not want money. I only have my body and my soul to give in every moment of my life.

Recycle, reuse, conserve, and share energy—this is the way to synchronize the rhythm of my heart with the rhythm of nature. Ecological cycles never produce more energy than necessary. If I follow these principles, I believe I can reach my goals with fewer obstacles.

Now I rest after the sun, beside the hull. I do not know when my boat will return to the sea, nor even if this will be the boat that carries me. But I am certain of one thing: one day I will cross the ocean on a boat.

That is my destiny.

To live fully, breathing the air of the present, turning every action into truth. When the right wind comes, I will be ready to sail. My bag will be packed, and I will depart.

And perhaps, somewhere along the way, someone will appear who lifts my spirit even higher, and the mission of life will begin again in a new form.

Squeezes of chemical dust fly around me, and smells from the other boats drift into my nose. It feels like a strange atmosphere taking over the whole place. It could be the state or the economic system that shapes these conditions—but it is not really that. It was my own will. I accepted the work on this boat as part of a test in life.

These kinds of efforts—these emissions of energy that prepare the conditions for a good harvest—cannot be just a trick, a joke, or a simple strategy to reach a goal. When I look at it this way, it feels as if I am simply opening the screen of my vision and letting my thoughts travel to the stars.

Now I try to change the clumsy sounds that appear in my writing. Words without expectation are not a problem of knowledge. Everyone must feel their own path through explanations, settings, strategies, and the daily exchange of roles. Life itself becomes a sequence of daring stations that began long before we were born.

Perhaps the first script was written by the first humans—Adam and Eve—or perhaps it was shaped through the long evolution that brought us here. Escaping from this reality is not a smart option. There is too much in the world that never tells the truth, too much that people accept even when they know it is nonsense.

Following my own route, I see how the drawing of my life has slowly been made. Somewhere along the way a wise woman crossed my path and opened doors to adventures that appeared one after another.

When my boat is in trouble, the best thing to do is to lower the sails and turn off the engine, letting it drift freely until the sea itself shows the way. My boat is not in trouble—not even in a hurricane—because even the most difficult moment can become a light that shows the right direction.

This time the journey could not happen. But I am sure that another opportunity will come soon. My dream of becoming a sailor will have its time.

When I think about navigating, I realize it means leaving behind many things I love—my life tied to places and people. But if I can complete the first mission on this boat, the second step will be close