When beginning a task, the skill
and knowledge before us is often daunting.
When Craig and I first married, I had only been on a sailboat once or
twice, and then, only to hang on.
However, my husband has been an avid sailor since he was a boy, and this
is very much a part of the very fabric of his soul. So, over the years, I have been learning to
sail. However, I have absolutely no
natural gifts or talents or intuition about mechanics or physics. The very structure of a boat, at first,
seemed like a foreign land in which a foreign language was spoken. Craig assured me that over time I would
absorb this knowledge. Honestly, in the
beginning, I had very little faith.
“Do not fly in dismay.” As we begin again our trek through the rules,
I remember the dismay – and a little cynical laughter – which accompanied our
first readings. All you have to do is .
. . These words seemed
overwhelming. The beginning always seems
daunting. However, the rules are not
about doing and not doing; the rules are about being a certain kind of
person. Reading the rules over and over
– three times a year Benedict requires –
reading and rereading the terms, the language, the way of thinking and
being – this gets soaked up and becomes apart of you. “You shall learn to run the way of God’s
Commandments . . .”
Last year I took a sailing class
to learn to sail at the helm rather than under the direction of my captain –
Craig. I was surprised to discover that
I understood the illustrations and the descriptions in the text; the instructor
was talking in a language I understood.
Over the years, I had absorbed the language of the boat. I have learned to run with the wind. I have become a sailor.
