Sunrise
As I stepped outside, the darkness of night was punched through with a million tiny pinholes of light. The rays of the sun would not begin to lighten the eastern horizon for another half hour, ushering in a new day, the last of an Outward Bound course that had spanned the New Year’s holiday bridging the time between 2010 and 2011. The dew clung heavily over all exposed surfaces, giving everything a shimmering quality with the starlight providing illumination. I made my way across the lawn of the Sunset Island base camp and looked upon the tents and personal bug shelters, where our students were still soundly sleeping. I glanced up and saw a shooting star blazing it’s short life across the canopy of the universe overhead. I walked more slowly, eyes pointed upwards. Another! At the bottom of the stairs leading into the lodge, I paused, and saw yet another shooting star. The sky above was alive this morning with spent pieces of the cosmos taking their final plunge after a journey none of us could possibly imagine. I turned to face the door, took one more lingering look at the sky above, and then placed my foot on the first stair. The coffee pot was calling, it was time to head inside again. It was time for the sailor to rest, and for the farmer to once again take prominence in my life.
For the past week, I had traveled by sea kayak through Everglades National Park and the 10,000 Islands National Wildlife Refuge with eight strangers and my co-instructor. It had been a good Outward Bound course. For me, the end of it marked the end of a period of many months of movement, of being outdoors. Since June, I have not spent much time in one place for very long. Leading backpacking trips, bicycle tours, and being away on vacation has kept me in motion. Heading inside that last morning of course felt symbolic to me of the larger direction my life will be going during the next several months. The sailor in me was returning from sea for awhile.
Kayaking by Gullivan Key
I am back in Asheville today, settled into my favorite chair, and ready to begin being a member of the community of people here. I will step back into the role of full-time student for the semester. I will enjoy watching the winter turn to spring. This is the farmer in me.
This concept of farmers and sailors was brought to my attention by a post I was reading this morning from a blog called The Path Less Pedaled.
[A friend] said, “There’s basically two kinds of people on this earth. There are farmers….and there are sailors. Farmers are the people that take great joy in laying down roots and are comforted by the predictable day to day routine and the dependable seasons. Sailors have to be constantly moving and looking for new experiences. There is nothing more satisfying than the prospects of a new port for a sailor. The world needs both kinds.” I’m not quite sure if I’m either wholly farmer or wholly sailor
I could not agree more. The farmer in me loves my home and community here in Asheville. He enjoys raking the leaves to the curb in the fall and going out to breakfast with friends at his favorite breakfast spot. But the sailor within me just won’t be quiet. He is a restless soul who does not tolerate sitting still for too long.
Therein lies my challenge. Can I convince the farmer and the sailor to work out a compromise? In 2010, I was able to have them coexist fairly well, though always at some level of uneasy tension between the two of them. When one of them is allowed to thrive, the other necessarily must suffer some. One thing is certain, the farmer and the sailor are both a part of me and neither is going away any time soon. And the thing is, the farmer within me learns so much from the sailor, just as the sailor is nourished by the contributions of the farmer.
What about you? Are you a farmer, a sailor, or a little of both?
The Mag at sunrise
Gullivan Key at sunset
So descriptive. I was with you every step on Sunset Island. Also, the photos are pretty wonderful. As always, you write like an angel.
With love,
Mostly farmer/mental sailor
About a year and a half ago, Josh Harris and I went bushpushing in our free time. I suggested to him that there are farmers and nomads. Most of the time I think I want to be a farmer, but when you call a nomad a sailor, I’m drawn to the other side.
Wellllllll……I am a farmer during the 10 months of teaching middle schoolers and a sailor during the all too short summers off (and a sailor on school breaks if they aren’t cancelled due to snow days!). I would like this balance to be the opposite and hope to make this happen now that I will be free of graduate school…. Alas though the “looking for new experiences sailor” in me is seeking a doctoral adventure that will perhaps cause me to be a farmer for three years….. but first I plan to take a year off of education and SAIL (literally and figuratively) as much as possible:)
Did I tell you your writing is phenomenal and should be published and shared?
Me? … I’m definitely a farmer three-fourths of the time. But when I see a peaceful, serene photo; i.e., your Farmers and Sailors post, I become a sailor and dream of breathing in some of God’s magnificient landscapes. Anyone for Montana? … Another great post, John!
This is the question I have been challenged by my entire life. As I look around at the general society it feels like we are suppose to be setting down roots. Life with routine and predictability. That life has always been struggle for me. I am not sure if that struggle is caused by me wanting to always do it my way or is it the pull of the water line. The water line pulling me towards a new adventure, a place to discover, a new world to learn. Maybe those roots that exist in my world are Mangrove roots. A true part of the water line, having adventures, but also providing a place of stability. A nursery for a community to develop.
A Sailor or Farmer: my thoughts may seem like they are in conflict, but my actions prove it. I am a sailor.
Oh John,
I love how your options (and your own choice) include both. I feel like I’ve been wrestling with this question for a long time, even if I haven’t been as eloquent as you are. I would have to say both. Thank you for giving this conflict the a new option.
What if it is not a dichotomy, not an either or. What if we could be FARLORS? Many Nomadic cultures have created roots, relationships to the land, and community. A friend of mine once said, that there are two kinds of people in the world. (1) those that think there are two kinds of people in this world and those that embrace the infinite complexity of world beyond our simple categorizations.
Nice Doc. I like that. I want to be a Farlor. It is so true that it can be hard to break out of the simple labels we and society tend to place on us.
I think I am with Doc on this one… I know that both exist within me… yet its interesting that as I look back over time one is more dominant than the other. There have been times of being a sailor first and farmer second – the reciprocal is true as well… I think for right now I am a farmer…. but love that sailor streak! Bring it on = going to St Thomas in three days!
P.S. The photo of the Mag is exceptional…
Great writing
Retired sailor, happy farmer. I was able to take a three month “sailing” trip last summer and I took most of my farm w me. This former sailer is quite content watching the farm grow.
Looking forward to all your posts