We are in the process of tagging in on a new pulse – slower and larger, more unpredictable than the clock’s seconds, minutes and hours. The planet’s pulse appears in the waves, currents, high and low tide, winds, sun, stars and moon. A rhythm that is infinitely larger than what I as an individual can control and even imagine.
Just think of the waves – here in the Atlantic they are bigger and longer than in the Baltic. They crawl in a common mass up to a wave peak to fall out and undaunted continue the next crawling upwards. Together they move forward.
I see the wave tops build up in the stern and feel how our boat slowly follows up and down. I remember sailing from Bornholm to Simrishamn with lots of wind and big waves that we surfed on. I looked back once – it was enough – the waves appeared so big. Took a steadier grip around the steering wheel and focused forward. Now they are even bigger and I am training to trust that we can join and be carried even by this sea. My task is to follow, be awake and present to the pulse. To dare to expand. To open my senses even more.
I shoot the sea, the sun and the moon. Every picture has a wide horizon. It’s moving all the time. I correct it – it’s so simple and happens automatically when I press a button. What happens when we see an oblique horizon – can’t we read the picture then?
My eyes are searching for the light. When the sun breaks through the clouds and sends down its rays in a large curtain. I never tire. Sunrise, sunset, glitter, sunbathing. The body also feels the sun – several degrees warmer immediately she shows up.
At night I wait for the moon. It shows far from always. That’s because it’s cloudy I’ve learned. But the clouds are not visible at night either, so I always wait and hope. The moon is very unpredictable. New moon or full moon – that feels tangible, but otherwise. It can appear anywhere in the sky / in any weather (surely there is science around this that says otherwise), be big or small, white or gold colored and only show up for a little, little while or if you are really lucky all night. Regardless, I am very fascinated by this nightly light.
The stars are still just as sprinkling in the sky. Eventually, we should start using our sextant and read our position against the stars – as they did in the ages before all technology.
We met a sailor, Max, who 21-year-old navigated with only sextant on his trip in the Pacific. He said that sailing to the Pacific will change us forever. It makes me even more curious. What is going to happen, really? How is it possible to describe and perhaps even justify a trip of this kind? So far, it’s still pretty unimaginable. I have thought several times that I could die now. Understand me right, I want to live clearly. It’s just so big and powerful everything. I feel immensely grateful and hope to share it with you in those lines.