Just got back from my vacation, my get-a-way, my time to refresh and renew. Spent some time on the "Sea of Tranquility". I'd been having stormy times and felt, as much as anything is deserved in this world (where it's not always good management but sometimes just blind luck) I deserved my vacation.

Maybe I did.

Maybe I didn't.

I know.


Spent a week on a boat, the "Dowager", traveling through Desolation Sound. (The irony's not lost.) The boat is a "grand old lady", retired from government service. She'd done her duty and now; now she was loved and cared for. A survivor. Something of dignity. The boat itself comforted me, and she seemed proud and fine, content to envelope and teach; provide lessons.

I'd often read, or been told, of the tranquility that comes with spending time on the sea. I'd often read, or been told, that this tranquility could also be found in the mountains, in the desert, in the skies; anywhere the vastness forced the soul, and I very much wanted to see for myself. Feel that something, more than self.

My traveling companion too was a survivor. A lifetime spent seeking, in service, driven; and was happy to share, to teach. Unfolding the various maps, my companion provided lessons; charting our journey ahead and spent time explaining deadheads and buoys, landmarks and rocks. The dangers one must watch out for, the hazards necessary to avoid; to find, the "Sea of Tranquility".

Just got back from my vacation. Coming home on the bus, the ferries were delayed so my trip lasted several hours longer than anticipated. It was okay. I wandered outside the bus and on the ferries, tired, yet smiling and watched: a group of young people, just starting out, laughing, posturing and playing; an old couple, reading the same paper, quiet smiles etched on their faces, a lifetime of caring, on display, as they touched.

Just got back from my vacation and my home was a shambles, but I puttered and plodded and smiled at the mess, until...

A telephone call, another one made. Time to deal.

I listened to anguish and anger and greed. I listened to lies and denial, small truths and pain. I listened and thought. Thought about the sea. Thought about the Sea of Tranquility, then...

Then I put my soul on a pike and after I cried.

I just got back from my vacation, from a trip on the sea and; I wanted to go back.

There were times, my companion and I would sit in the wheelhouse of the Dowager, at anchorage and marvel.

My companion would tease, "I wonder what the poor people are doing right now?", and I'd laugh.

I know and I knew, it's easy to laugh, on vacation, on the sea. On the Sea of Tranquility.

There's a price on everything these days

and those willing to pay

can purchase their souls.

There's a price on everything these days

and the cost;

the cost, it's not always money.

There were many stories leading to our vacation, our time together, my companion and I. Our time on the Sea of Tranquility. We all have stories. Stories of despair and hope, triumph and pain. Stories of disappointment and love, anguish and faith. And there were many costs paid by my companion and I that led to that trite remark, "I wonder what the poor people are doing right now?"

Two lifetimes spent searching, seeking that something. That something, more than self.

And my companion went on.

More lessons.

"This time we have together. This time is now our history", my companion explained. "When the world overwhelms us, each or alone, we'll always have this time to hold on to. A touchstone for our tomorrow's."

Just got back from my vacation. A vacation on the Sea of Tranquility. I watched seals and jelly fish and swam with the salt tears of the earth. I marvelled at waves and vastness and faith and gloried in the sun, thankful for her gift to us all. Just got back from my vacation and I cried. I wanted to go back.

And after.

After I'd dealt,

after I'd put my soul on a pike,

after I cried...

I lay on my bed. I lay on my bed, home again and remembered. I closed my eyes and felt. Felt the rocking of the survivor. I lay on my bed and my mind saw the charts, the maps to danger and glory; the lessons learned. I lay on my bed and smelled the smell of the sea, the Sea of Tranquility and I pondered. I pondered the cost; my vacation. The cost to my soul and I knew. Knew the cost would be too high if the lessons weren't learned.

"I wonder what the poor people are doing right now?", said my companion and I laughed but; again I knew. Knew it wasn't money my companion spoke of but our great good fortune gathered and saved through two lifetimes of searching; searching to find, to feel that something; that something more than self, and the simple blind luck of finding each other and that day.

Don't know I really felt the vastness of the sea; learned that lesson.

Pretty sure to understand would require a storm.