Paradise is Exhausting
Someone on a work call recently called my life “charmed,” and it made me laugh a little.
Yes, because. I can look up from my computer and see the Caribbean. Some mornings we start with yoga on a floating dock. We surf before our Zoom calls. We swim off the back of our house in beautiful warm water. We eat dinner barefoot at little beach restaurants. The kids snorkel, sail, free dive, fish, and jump off boats with their friends. At night, Matt and I lie on the trampoline and look at more stars than we knew existed.
It is completely ridiculous how beautiful this life is.
And we are also always tired, sticky and a little hungry.
Pretty much every day brings some unexpected challenge. The windlass stops working. A hose leaks and there's water in the bilge. The batteries are lower than expected. We're running out of water. A fishing line gets wrapped around the prop. The mainsail won't come down. We discover a problem with the rigging. The weather changes. The anchor alarm goes off. It is already time to clean the hulls again. Someone needs space and well, there just isn’t much space on this boat.
Everything takes longer than you imagined it could.
Staying hydrated and being able to shower means making water. Making water requires checking the tanks, calculating how much water we need, checking the batteries and thinking about how much solar we're producing. If we don’t have enough power to make water… that becomes a whole other thing…
Going to the grocery store is an adventure; we have been twice in two months.
Laundry is an event. We re-wear a few pieces of clothing over and over, yet with our little system of washing in buckets and hanging to dry in the rainy season, laundry takes all day.
There is an impossible-to-complete list of things to maintain, learn, fix, clean, organize and figure out.
And somehow, I love it.
There is this strange juxtaposition out here between simplicity, beauty, peace, and play, and hard work, constant vigilance, problem-solving, and an incredible amount of mental load.
I don't think I've ever worked so hard at the basic acts of living.
I also don't think I've ever been this happy.
Every morning and every evening, I spend time on the top deck watching the sun rise or set, or I lie on my back and look at the stars. Sometimes I am alone; sometimes one of my most loved people joins me. Sometimes I close my eyes to hear how many distinct sounds I can make out – the water under the boat, the waves on the shore, the air on the rigging, music from land, the wind, the birds, voices, fish jumping, someone moving on the boat. Sometimes I listen to music. But what always happens is an overwhelming feeling I have never experienced. I want nothing different, nothing more, nothing less. I don’t want to be anywhere else or with anyone else. I want to be exactly where I am in life – literally and figuratively. It is overwhelming peace and gratitude.
My “charmed” life is one that I am grateful for. It includes plenty of struggle and challenge, beauty and quiet, nature and community. I am beyond grateful for my charmed life complete with unbrushed hair, a hungry belly, and fatigue in my bones.
