She is full now - having masts on her feels like a sacred union of female and male aspect. This is how sailboats give you a feeling of wholeness.
So much fun goes around that.
And much learning in every sense. Learning about sails and rigging. Riggers Apprenticeship and Sailors Apprenticeship - our bibles.
So, this is clear now that I am bound to the boat, my blood is under the main mast with all the blood from those 5 Canadian guys. Small white feather took this mission onto herself. She is carrying it all now, all the weight of the big 45 feet tall mast. She is sharing it with the sister Sage. Sage is our grounding, purification and clarity. There was a penny from the year 1901 under the foremast before. But we lost it mysteriously. Money didn´t really mean so much to us either.
So.
Lavender took its place. Her fragrance is guiding us towards the dreams with her sweetness.
All those words around me, words in English, in the language of seamen. This is another world, reality. I do my best to keep myself in the wave. It is here with a reason. I am in it. Maybe some day I can give advice when somebody is going to step the mast of a wooden boat. Shrouds and lines - everything has to be in its right place and order.
Of course we didn`t do all right at the first place. Ollie and Ty and Jason went up there in turns, hanging on a crane and changing the places of some stays and and shrouds. Dylan made two new deadeyes and we pulled line through them, making masts more stable. I learned some linework, knots and stuff. Leatherwork is also around. I found myself loving to be inside a big deer(or elk)hide. Some old instincts woke up when I was sitting there on the ground, leather wrapped around me. I felt like sitting forever like that, being invisible amongst the dried grass...
I am realizing that I am good at finding stories. But sometimes they do not matter to other people around me. And this is what I have to learn that I do not have to tell them to those who do not feel like listening. Some things which are important and interesting for me are not exiting enough to stop their thinking-doing process.
"What do I do with those stories then?" I ask from myself. Why do the appear for me? Is this the way it is suppose to be? Am I meant to share those or to just wonder around and feel blessed that I notice them.
Oh, they are sometimes so small and in whispers that only way to see and feel them is to be as silent as you can. And to think nothing. Just letting yourself to be carried by them.
Worlds inside and outside seem to be different. Heh. What a found! Some information and connection in the level of the spirit is so easy and smooth and true. But then comes the Earthly existence and minds in between, borders and lines and customs and habits and moods and this all. And I feel confused - are my dreams and visions, subtle voices and realizations real? Where are they from? Are they from this time or from another time and space?
Should I listen to them and dare to live them, even if the "reality" is telling me something else with its illusions and stories?
I find myself being this small girl again - asking questions about the world and universe, me and the others. And again - there are not many people around who come along with me, who take me seriously. Who listen. I guess answers are around. I will find them and they are trying to make themselves visible and hearable. I am just too loud for that.
And there comes the question - are those things for sharing or keeping for myself - cause the answers are mine to find anyways...
I just hope I do not trash the world with my words and sentences.
~
So, today we washed the sails. Big white wings were laid down on top of the tarps. Yesterday we grainded 6 loafs of scented soap and put it into the rubber-pool with water and sails in it - to soak overnight. Today they were wet and soapy and we rubbed them with sponges. Lots of water and crawling around. Water went darker - so I guess the sails went whiter. Although it was hard to see that. What we saw were the holes and places to work on - some sewing has to take place! Tomorrow....
~
Even though I am tired of all this action, big acts and communication, those loud guys and running around... I feel that I love it. This is it. This is the story of Freya, the schooner. And this is the story of my life. Adventures. Hard and easy times, mixed together. And I love to have this dark nighttime when everybody is asleep and I am typing here, to share it with you, with the world, with whoever is coming around to read it.
Good and bad - this is the same.
"Love it!" I tell to myself.
Love feeling tired.
Love feeling grumpy.
Love feeling like doing nothing.
Love letting all pass by.
Love feeling enthusiastic.
Love feeling in love.
Just love it!
I continue walking on the path of "loving myself". This is the journey.
It is not about survival.
It is about living it!
Living the dreams~~
P.S.
What I loved the most today was picking the figs just next to a big supermarket centre..., just over the fence there. It might be somebodys garden. But the figs are ripe and just waiting to be eaten. So we save them.
Tonight I touched them to feel which ones are ripe, so sweet and soft! Now I know how it feels. And this is a blessing. Once I dreamed about that. It is here now.
Thanks!
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