Rail Meat…

Do Not Sit on Rail

I have spent many hours on the rail of a sailboat.  Hours of sitting, and thinking, and observing. Hours in the sunshine, rain, heat, cold; some in the dark with stars twinkling over my head…  Sure there were the minutes of intense concentration while rounding a mark, bringing the halyards up, bringing the halyards down, dipping the pole, coiling the end of the halyard to assure a clean dousing of a sail…minutes of precision…sometimes trimming the main, searching for speed…then more hours of watching a Skipper of the race boat search for the wind on the course, watching the other boats on the course and anticipating their next tacks…

Sometimes the rails have been comfortable with smooth toe rails under the crook of my knees, just a slight perception of nonskid paint, soft and stippled…other rails have been made of metal, an inch or two tall, cutting off the circulation in my legs leaving me to wonder if I will ever walk again, nonskid the grade of cut diamond cutting into my knees leaving me with badges of honor most would not expect of a gentleman’s sport.

I have thoroughly enjoyed being ‘Rail Meat’.  I have been a cog in a wheel of practiced patience, and cool anticipation.  I have experienced how amazing a rush it is when a team of many people work together to make a boat go as fast as she can, it is exhilarating and rewarding.  Cutting through air and water, smoothly running for the mark or the finish line… nothing else I have found has married such grit and grace, simultaneously, except maybe rowing.  I think I am fascinated by the sheer forces involved, which outwardly displayed, equate to what appears to be effortlessness.  That dichotomy to me just never gets old.  But I digress…

The point of this post is to say that I have, until the last few years, showed up in my life as Rail Meat.  I had a lot of hours of excellent training.  I have been a good team player, predictable in my behavior, well practiced, determined, quiet when I should be (well most of the time), hyper focused on one aspect of the big picture, programmed, master of my position, always working to curtail the unexpected, and happy to jump when requested.

While downloading the pictures I have taken in the past two months I found one I had not even taken a close look at.  I had snapped it on a ferry ride back from Beaufort, N.C. one September afternoon. It had rained in the afternoon and cleared to a beautiful, wispy blue sky.   What astounded me seeing this photograph enlarged on my computer screen was the impact it had on me…The little sailboat in the distance which I had framed in such a way that it appears to be floating on the rail of the ferry boat, and then the sign painted on the inside of the ferry rail, as a warning to all, ‘Do Not Sit on Rail’.  As I stared at this photograph this weekend, I felt Divine Intervention’s index finger squarely applying pressure to the crown of my head…a sort of message from above – ‘This means You!’

So while I am one Master of the Rail Meat, it is time for me to be Skipper in my own Life.  I have dealt with the bruises and cuts from crawling over the cabin as the boat tacks starboard to port, port to starboard…I haven’t minded them…they have taught me a lot…that it is a small price to pay to get from here to there…but it is time for me to take the tiller, and to learn to be comfortable with it.  It is time for me to be willing to make mistakes, possibly not place first, be responsible for tacking into a header, while simultaneously having faith that a lift may be right around the corner; and knowing all the while that it is all part of the race.  It is time for me to call some of the shots, have my head in the race, and see the greater edges of the course…Don’t get me wrong, the view from the rail can be great; and it can be a relief to just participate with in a predefined set of obligations aboard, but where you end up is not necessarily your own choice.

And so it is, my lesson for October 2012…’Do Not Sit on Rail’…