Into the Mystic

With Christmas quickly approaching, we’re almost halfway into the trip.  Perhaps it’s time for introspection…

So, this post is going to be more personal reflection and less travelogue.   I‘ve been thinking about it for some time, and I hesitated about publishing it; but I’ve decided to go ahead and put it out there.

I have to admit that – at the beginning – I wasn’t sure where this voyage was headed.  Something was compelling me to go, but at times, I felt like I was sailing into a void.  

I was concerned that I could slide into abject dissolution, and that they’d find me lying in a gutter next to some bar in Key West.  I have been known in the past to exhibit a certain predilection for self-abuse.

On the other hand, I could come back sober and in the best shape of my life.

Or it’s possible, I suppose, that I may not come back at all… As Jimmy Buffet famously said: “Where it all ends, I can’t fathom my friends.  If I knew, I might throw out my anchor.” 

One of you – I forget who – said that I am the poster boy for “life goes on.”  I suppose it’s true, to a certain extent.  And I’m grateful to my family and my friends and my therapists, all of whom helped me move on.  Some of you (you know who you are) were friends AND therapists.

Above all, though: I HAD TO move on.  After Cathy’s death, the things that had once seemed important, no longer felt that way.  My career.  My home.  I just didn’t care about them anymore.

So – with apologies to Van Morrison – at times, this felt like a trip “Into the Mystic”:

• I’m not sure WHERE we’re going
• I’m not sure WHY we’re going
• I’m not sure WHEN we’re going to get there
• I’m not even sure if we’re coming back

With the passage of time, however, I definitely feel a sense of purpose.  It stuck me in Brunswick, GA – after the prop was successfully repaired – that I was excited to go back to the place where I made a mistake and do it over correctly.  And move on.  Get to the next port of call.  A new destination every day.  

Clearly, I must also recognize that this journey is a reflection of my own approach to life: I have ALWAYS needed a plan.  I have always needed to know where I am headed.  And I am very discontented with complacency.  I have always needed a new challenge.  Just look at my career path:  I liked to apply my skills to new categories and channels.  Food was fun, what about cosmetics?  Domestic business was fun, what about international?  OK, that was fun.  What about Mergers and Acquisitions? What about start-ups? What else sounds interesting?”  A year to figure out the new business; a year to fix it; and a year to enjoy it.  Then a new challenge.  I once told Cathy that I wanted these words inscribed on my tombstone: “What’s Next?”

And – of course – this is a voyage of healing.  I think about Cathy every day.  But not constantly – the navigating consumes almost all my attention.  But I think of her frequently every day.  And every time I do, I say a prayer for her happiness. And for her forgiveness.

I began this trip full of regrets about the things I didn’t say to Cathy.  And the things I didn’t do.  And – yes – the things I shouldn’t have done or said.

But with time and distance – if you’re lucky – you come to a more balanced view of the amazing life you had together.  

I know she was a gift.  God put her in my path for a reason.

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But let’s move away from the metaphysical…

It’s also just a great trip.  I am 76 years old, and I am doing something I always wanted to do.  Cruise the ICW.  I don’t know how many good years I have left.  5? 10?  But I am still healthy – body and mind.  

And you know our motto here at camp:  Clean Mind.  Clean Body.  

Take Your Pick

[Thank you, Alan Sherman]

The good news is: I’m certainly glad I did it. The sense of accomplishment; the independence that comes from being literally in charge of my own voyage; the sheer pleasure of clear aqua waters and warm breezes.

I’m so happy to know that – no matter how this ends – I will look back with gratitude having done it, rather than looking back with regret and wishing I HAD done it.

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On a side note, I’ve decided not to go to the Bahamas this year.  The issue revolves around Guinness: they are experiencing a screwworm epidemic; infected dogs are just put down.  The risk of his being quarantined when we return is increased. The risks are simply not worth the reward.

So I’m now thinking we’ll be home in March.  If our luck holds.

Many more miles to go…many more adventures lie ahead.  Keep me in your thoughts and prayers.  You are ALL in mine.