Adrift at Sea

There was a captain. She sailed her ship on the high seas in pursuit of treasure, which was her passion—the pursuit, not the treasure. She exuded unabashed health, happiness and strength. And people wanted to be near her. They wanted to be with her. They wanted to be her. They wanted her.

Even the Sun, the Wind and the Rain admired her for she batted not even one eyelash if her pursuit meant opposing the forces of Nature. She feared naught. She dared all. And she did it in the name of what she knew to be right. She did it for what she valued. She did it for what was rightfully hers. She did it with a spark in her eye.

She lived.

There was a mighty storm. One that the Sun, the Wind and the Rain sunk every ounce of energy into. Her ship took a beating, but she fought. During the melee she became distracted. She was defeated.

When the sea calmed she was alone in an inflatable life raft with nothing in sight but the choppy water. No engine. No paddles. Nothing but herself and the life raft.

For awhile she continued to fight, though her power was reduced to a mere fraction of what it had been. She grew tired in body but she continued. Occasionally she would stop and scan the horizon. Each time she resumed, her fight was less spirited. Only when it became clear that she was going nowhere did she finally grow tired in spirit.

Soon she found herself spending her days looking—instead of to the horizon—into the sea. She imagined horrible things. And so she saw them reflected there. She felt sick from the motion of the waves. She felt frightened of the images in the sea. She resigned herself to let the waves carry her wherever they wished her to go.

For the first time she just followed. Contentedly.

Soon she lost sight of the Sun, the Wind and the Rain. She forgot her treasure. She stopped her pursuit. She cared for nothing. She did nothing. And her health waned. Her happiness became paranoia. Her strength only exercised itself as a means of keeping her from jumping overboard and ending it all.

She became a ghost. She was a shipwreck.

But the Sun, the Wind and the Rain did not lose sight of her. For as she lost her will, they lost theirs. What good is an adversary that you can easily beat?

In her ghostlike existence, she heard the Sun, the Wind and the Rain conversing. The Wind suggested they bring her a new ship. The Rain wanted to show her the way to land. But the Sun…the Sun fiercely refused.

If they helped her, she would be forever weak and in their debt. She would never return to her former glory—let alone surpass it. She must fight her way back. She must know that she can overcome, not the strength of the storm that distracted and defeated her, but the contented uselessness of drifting at sea. For it was this uselessness that would destroy her.

Destroy.

The word alone shot like a thunderbolt straight to her soul. Destroy was impossible. Especially not to such an unworthy opponent as contented uselessness. As the Sun, the Wind and the Rain watched, she sat up and began paddling with her arms. She didn’t have nearly the strength she had before, but she pushed herself. Still she drifted aimlessly. Intent, not content, she sat back and studied the horizon. Nothing in sight.

But she realized, there never had been.

She always charted her own course using the sense that served her best—and it wasn’t sight. But now she must employ sight, with a strength of mind that she had not ever had to reach for. And it was then that the spark sprang to her eye.

She looked where she knew she must. Down. Deep into the depths of the sea. She looked hard. And then she dived in, leaving the life raft to the mercy of the waves. Alone in the sea, she moved more freely and quickly. She was no longer held back by the burden of the pseudo-safety in the life raft. Stroke by stroke she reengaged in her pursuit.

And so the Sun, the Wind and the Rain smiled with wicked delight in anticipation.