By Trina Otero
There’s nothing like fresh heartache to inspire the uninspired writer. Ahhhh, thank you pain for the motivation. After all, the best love songs, poetry, and stories come from a heart-broken lass or lad.
Women still wonder why they keep getting hurt, when they are told to keep their heart open for love. “Never be afraid to try,” we all say. Or as Rumi said, “Load the ship and set out. No one knows for certain whether the vessel will sink or reach the harbor. Cautious people say, ‘I’ll do nothing until I can be sure.’ Merchants know better. If you do nothing, you lose. Don’t be one of those merchants who wont risk the ocean.”
I’ll admit it is fucking frustrating to be the valiant merchant who takes to the ocean – and sinks. Yeah, I admit it. And women all over the world can admit it. And after the ship sinks we wonder, “Why in the hell did I freaking think it was okay to sail that unchartered water?” Because, hey, sinking sucks. It hurts. The only thing I can do is speak from experience…. And I’m learning because of these experiences, which are stacking up to make quite a good resume I might add. I’ll be a pro by the time I’m 90 (that was sarcasm, I hope it doesn’t take that long).
I keep wrecking my ship because I keep sailing on the same waters. Point blank. I didn’t know it in the past – I was a newbie – so I just said, “Okay! I love your ocean let’s do this!” But after a few doozies, and yes I have had intense doozies, I started to notice a pattern. So I began to spend more time on myself, as a Sailor of Love, but this time I sailed my inner seas. And this taught me so many things about myself – my pain, strengths, weaknesses, talents, and my habitual flaws. So with a new map and key I turned to the outer oceans and heard, “Pick me! Pick me!”
After learning the ropes of my own heart it made it so much easier to sail another’s, but I still ended up sinking. This time it was because I clearly ignored that booming voice in my head, who sounded very masculine and fatherly. “Stay away from him.” Oh, why do I always disobey like a 13-year-old rebellious teen? Okay, lesson learned mateys.
So.. There I am back on the dock… And another ship comes by and invites me to sail ALONG with him. Wow, what a treat…. This is different. This is fan-fucking-tastic. And we sail, smoothly, over the waves and rolls of the ocean. We create ripples together. We move freely from one deck to the other deck; we even help one another steer. Not one peep came from that fatherly voice. So I thought it was okay. From time to time, at night I’d lay on the deck under the stars and I’d beg for answers, clues, and advice, but I never heard a forecast to stay clear of the fog. I was content, happy, and I felt we were sailing away to an unknown, beautiful land.
But suddenly my ship grazed some rocks. Then we went through some fog, thick fog I might add. I couldn’t see anything. I couldn’t HEAR anything. My ship clashed into an unknown object; I felt my beautiful haven snapping and breaking into pieces leaving me in bewilderment. And then I sank. I cried and cried, as I sank deeper into the darkness of the ocean. “Why? Why didn’t you warn me? You always warn me? Why would you stay quiet and let me sail, alone and clueless if you could have warned me?” And like a thought, like any other thought, yet so calm and soft, I heard a whisper,
“How else would you learn to trust your intuition?”
Oh… I get it. As I looked up from the ocean floor and began to swim to the surface of the waters I figured it out. How can I learn to ride a bike if I always use training wheels? How else was I going to learn to swim if they had not thrown me into the water? This was a lesson. A lesson to teach me how to LISTEN and TRUST my intuition. I cannot always rely on The Voice/Voices to make decisions (for the record, I’m not crazy, just in tune with my Spirit Guides). I cannot stay a newbie sailor for the remainder of my years. I will have to learn the ways of the water, learn the ways of MY waters, and trust my gut instinct. No ifs, ands, or buts. You do not see pro sailors, as in captains, freaking out and running to others to make decisions. The captain usually knows what’s best. The captain has a connection with the water and everything that comes with it, and most importantly, the captain knows her ship from the very tip of the mast to the very bottom of the belly. (That’s the term I’m using for the very bottom of the ship, deal with it.)
I could argue back with this very nice voice that I didn’t feel any intuitive moments before embarking on the journey, or while sailing on the ocean with this fellow ship. And in fact, because of my frustration, I did counter with this statement. But the soothing voice calmly replied,
“Yes you did.”
Okay, okay, you’re right. Before I agreed to sail I saw some holes on the side of his ship and that worried me, but… He told me not to worry. And while we sailed, many miles from any shore, I noticed he would forget to set up the sail correctly. This bugged me, but he told me not to worry. He told me we should sail East and I knew we needed to sail West, but I trusted him. Okay…. You’re right. I had a good sailor’s gut. And I ignored it.
Never again will I ignore my sailor’s intuition. Why should I keep ignoring my knowledge of the waters and most importantly, MY waters, when I took FOREVER to learn in the first place? You didn’t see me hopping on boats after I wrecked a few. I knew I needed to keep my ass on land and figure this shit out. My shit. And I continue to figure it out.
So ladies, quit sailing your ships, or hopping on others’ ships, if you keep sinking. Take your behind back to land and figure out why you keep sinking. Maybe you need to sail an entirely new body of water. Maybe your ship needs repair. But figure it out, and once you have enough figured out, NEVER doubt your knowing. Never doubt your sailor’s gut. We are highly intuitive beings and very capable of steering, sailing, coasting, co-sailing, and anchoring any given ship.
In Love & Light, Namaste,
Inspired? Share my Love but please credit my work! ❤
All works by Trina Otero is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.