Life happens. Storms happen. Sometimes we find ourselves adrift in a boat that just isn’t cutting it anymore. The problem within everything being okay, is that okay leads to complacency. Complacency leads to a belief that things are good enough and we stop focusing and maintaining things that need attention. We hold onto things that we shouldn’t and find that everything is cluttered. Then things start to break down and we don’t even notice. And that’s when the boat starts to leak and sinks us. Finally, one day we end up looking in a mirror and wonder who that person is blankly staring back at us with hollow eyes. We realize that we’ve tolerated things that we shouldn’t have and it led us to a place we never intended to be.

Like the story of David from the beginning of this book, sometimes everything falls apart and we find ourselves shipwrecked and fleeing people trying to hurt you and desperately struggling just to stay alive. Or sometimes we’ve just drifted so far off course and things have decayed so badly then you’re required to start over.

Sometimes life offers us the opportunity to build a better boat.

Which brings us back to the narrative arc. Except this time, you’re the protagonist. You just had your inciting incident and normal just got knocked off its feet. You now have a decision to make.

What are you willing to go through to create the life that you actually want?

Which begs the question of what kind of life do you want? Do you even know? Position yourself where at least you know that you’re moving away from the thing that you don’t want. If your house is on fire you don’t sit around trying to decide where you might like to live in the future before you decide to escape the flames. You get out before you do anything else. After that you have room to think. You move to the next right answer.

You’ve already figured out what you don’t want, so in terms of navigation at least you have that going for you. If it’s cold and you want to be warm, point your boat toward somewhere warm and hoist your sails. You’re going to realize if you’re moving toward something you want or not. Adjust your course as you go. Some of the best advice I’ve heard on this subject is to look for clues that you’re probably overlooking. If you hate your job and you don’t know what else you could do, pay attention to your inner compass. Think about what it is that you do that you tend to get lost in. I don’t mean watching TV or playing video games. I’m talking about the things that cause you to go into a flow state where you’re completely focused and time just slips by. Think about the things that you do that make you forget to check your phone.

Think about the things that cause you to move from a state of disconnect to a state of connection where your body and mind are focused and your soul is free. Maybe it’s not a specific thing, but it’s more of a type of thing. For me it’s when I can use my mind and my hands together. I know I like being outside. I know I like to keep my distance from crowds. I know I like to have the space and quiet to think. I know I want to chase horizons. I know that I like structure, but I want to make my own rules. I know that I’m greedy for my own time and have not patience with anyone who treats it carelessly. I know that I don’t like anyone else telling me where to be and what to do. I know I don’t like to wear shoes if I don’t have to. I know I like the feel of my sailboat moving with rhythm of the waves and wind. I like chasing horizons with an ocean breeze on my face. As Eustace Conway described, I know I want to live in a world where everything is circular and not a world of squares.

Just knowing this tells me that sitting in a cubicle and working for a company in middle America with a strict dress code and a 40 hour work schedule would not last long or end well.

Maybe that’s why I like boats so much. They’re built for the world of circles. So, I guess it’s the pirate’s life for me.

I’ve found that there’s a balance for me between my cabin in the woods and my boat on the ocean. It’s the balance between home and horizon. Sometimes I need the constant motion and sometimes I need it to pause and take time to regroup beneath the trees. Between the two of them, I’m able to feel whole. I want to live in close proximity to nature. I need room to roam. I can’t stand feeling caged in. But that’s just me. If you’re looking for something a bit more suburban and a nice house on a quiet street, my life is probably not going to work well for you.

But enough about my story, let’s talk about yours.