Spiritual Voyages

Life Lessons From Sailing: Running with the Wind

“The pessimist complains about the wind; the optimist expects it to change; the realist adjusts the sails.”
William Arthur Ward

I suppose you’ve heard the popular lyrics from “Running Like the Wind” sung by Marshall Tucker Band, but are you acquainted with the sailing term, “running with the wind?”

“Running,” another point of sail, is a tricky position in which to find yourself; this situation occurs when the main and the jib sails are fully extended (at the widest possible angle) to catch the wind from behind.

Oddly enough, while “running” is the slowest and most relaxed point of sailing, it can also be the most dangerous (due to the instability of the weather behind you).

Because of this unpredictability (i.e. risking an accidental jibe), it can be problematic as you steer your vessel.

Suffice it to say, when running downwind, the captain (at the helm) must be on their toes – ready for a last-minute diversion.

Have you found something similar to be true (to this sailing metaphor) while attempting to guide the ship of your own life?

As when running downwind in my sailboat, I treasure when life feels secure.

I admit, I enjoy resting on my laurels, confident that the gentle breeze of life won’t divert to gale-force winds.

After all, what is better than no strife, zero topics open for debate – only calm seas, quiet waves.

Don’t we all just we want to hang a “do not disturb sign” around our neck as if to say, read between the lines, “I’m good….leave me alone!”

Regrettably, I have found this place of peaceful bliss (one without conflict) rarely lasts too long.

When we have the rug (so to speak) pulled out from underneath us, we can often times lose our balance all together.

How does one find their center in times of turbulence?

Finding Peace in the Storm

This hope [this confident assurance] we have as an anchor of the soul [it cannot slip and it cannot break down under whatever pressure bears upon it]—a safe and steadfast hope that enters within the veil [of the heavenly temple, that most Holy Place in which the very presence of God dwells] Hebrews 6:19, AMP

I wonder what heavenly breeze will be brought forth next in life…

Read my next post and we will explore the topic together.

“To reach a port we must sail, sometimes with the wind, and sometimes against it. But we must not drift or lie at anchor.” Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.

Life’s Lessons From Sailing: The Skilled Win First Prize

Being raised in the Midwest, I didn’t know how much I would love the waters of the Chesapeake Bay.

When I was twenty-one (forty-six years ago), I was introduced to sailing.

I made a lot of mistakes when I was learning this new craft.

My daughter still talks about the time I threw the anchor in the water and forgot to tie the line (rope) on the cleat, thus diminishing any attempt at preventing the boat from drifting into the rocks.

I recall how exasperated Katie was with my lack of expertise; she quickly jumped off the vessel to safety as we approached the bulrushes along the shore. She was leery to ever board my sailboat again.

Many times in my life, I have felt like I was on the verge of hitting a narrow gully – strewn with boulders.

Indeed, I have been in close quarters that warranted my most sincere attention.

Being in “harms way,” a popular nautical term defines a condition that might result in one’s peril.

Once, when on a forty-foot racing vessel, my foot got caught in the loose sails; I was assured I was going overboard (as the crew was rounding the first marker of the competitive course).

Prayerfully, this didn’t happen, but its dangerous if you aren’t paying attention to your surroundings.

In sailing lingo, you sail “close-hauled” if you want to be the winner of the race. By ratcheting your sails in tight – staying as close to the wind as possible, you move through the water the quickest.

In the fastest point of sail, the boom will be close to your boats centerline; if you’re doing it right, your gib and main sheet will not be luffing.

Peering up at the mast, your tell-tales (small ribbons that indicate proper airflow) will prove your sails are trimmed just right.

Linda sailing — Paying close attention to the wind.

It’s simply amazing: you are blowing through the water; at times you can be sailing faster than the true wind speed.

What mastery one feels when sailing upwind in this efficiently fine-tuned position.

If only situations in life (metaphorically speaking) could stay like that.

Read my next post about “running with the wind.”

Life Lessons from Sailing: Harnessing the Wind

By Linda McDougal

“He sets the beams of His chambers on the waters; who makes the clouds His chariot, who walks on the wings of the wind.”
(Reference Psalm 104:3)

I have found that journeying through life, like boating, is multi-faceted.

For example, when on the water, one has several different points of sail from which to choose (as a means of determining a vessel’s direction relative to the wind).

I believe the decisions we make (regarding our course and speed) will directly affect how we cruise through life.

Every step we take, whether we tack or jibe (i.e. change course directions) will determine how well we will maneuver through life’s poignant excursions.

For me, some seasons in life have seemed relatively easy, but others have proved to be difficult. Some intervals of time have seemed to drag on, while other snapshots of memory have sped by in a flash.

As I look back on the twenty-four years (when I was raising my children) as a stay-at-home mom, what I see mostly is a dull blur.

On the flip side, there have been times when I have felt like I was caught in a ditch, spinning my tires and going nowhere. (Please excuse the over-used idioms in this memoir).

Wouldn’t you agree that being stuck between a “rock and a hard place” – making very little progress toward our goals – is frustrating, to say the least.

Metaphorically, in sailing terms this monotomous time is described as being “in irons.”

In this ”no sail zone,” your vessel is heading straight into the wind, barely making any headway at all: simply limping along.

Likewise in life, when our goals have seemingly disappeared from sight (and we are exhausted from the beating gale), discouragement can set in.

We lose our forward steam.

It’s as if the words of purpose have become invisible ink on the page: they went missing and you can’t get them back.

I confess, I really dislike the times life has thrown me a curve ball.

I rarely am ready for the disruption it brings. One minute, I had plans to zig, but now the only option is to zag.

The end result proves the point: I am going nowhere fast. As a task-oriented person, it’s an understatement (to say the least): I really disdain change.

My only saving grace … my true hearts desire… my unspoken prayer …is that difficult times in life make me more intimately acquainted with the Divine Creator (whose mighty power and presence can easily harness any adversity).

Might you be interested in knowing about the Master of The Universe?

Keep your sails “tuned” for my next blog.

“The wind blows where it wishes and you hear its sound, but you do not know where it is coming from and where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.” John 3:8

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Life Lessons from Sailing: Navigating Challenges

Are you searching for spiritual significance in your life? Spiritual Voyages promises to awaken your divine nature as you follow the Wind of the Holy Spirit.

Whether I am accompanying my husband on our jet boat, or it’s just me on my stand-up-paddle board (that I sit on), I am a water enthusiast.

I wouldn’t say I am a great sailor, but I enjoy being on the river, sound, bay or ocean.

I certainly am not a professional, but neither am I a novice; my admiration for the aqua-colored depths spans forty years.

Similar to the tales of fishermen, I have some good stories to share.

I tried windsurfing for a summer, but quickly realized it was too tricky for me.

Flowing with the current, I could easily go downwind, but returning my board to shore (and going up wind) was difficult.

I admit, much to my chagrin, the marine police had to rescue me more than once.

Some of my favorite memories involve my sixteen-foot daysailer.

I recall loving the noise of the sails as they flapped, swinging from side to side when I began my tack (i.e. turning the bow through the wind).

I took great pleasure in steering the boat.

Grasping the tiller in my hand with mastery, I relished feeling the power of the wind reverberate in my hand.

With great satisfaction, I remember feeling confident as I balanced the helm, controlling the navigation.

Whatever the wind direction, as I felt that breeze blow by, all other noise ceased.

It’s as if all motion stopped – the world appeared to be at rest.

In my sixty-eight years, I have found that sailing can be a metaphor for life: some situations have been absolutely stupendous, while others have been not-so-good, mediocre at best.

If you’ve liked this description of sailing, please follow me for more musings as I ponder how life has been (and continues to be) a spiritual voyage.

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