by Ray Jason
The
Waters were calling me again. But not to embark on another frigid
trip into the deep ice, like last year’s Northwest Passage voyage.
This time the warm
waters of the Archipelago of Bliss were
beckoning me with a
promise of solace and
separation.
I
needed to get away from my quest to understand – at least for
myself – how the world really works. So
much time spent studying
the riddle of how so
few people can dominate so many people,
had worn me down.
Trying to comprehend
the black pathology
that drives some people to weave webs of secrecy and deceit in order
to control others, had exhausted me.
Fortunately,
in less than two hours I can sail to a spot that never fails to
comfort me. It is a
little beach where there is no phone service, no internet and no
connectivity. But there is a connection to what
may be the absolute
best medicine for world
weariness – the
laughter
of children.
This
particular seaside
is especially
nourishing to my philosophical temperament because the beach becomes
completely empty at night. The boats and buses depart back to the
nearby
town, and my beloved
AVENTURA and I have
this idyllic sanctuary to ourselves. This allows me to process and
ponder the day’s impressions.
My
recent sojourn there was a blend of sunlight and deluge. A tropical
downpour is most definitely a Force
of Nature. But even as the grown-ups would scatter for cover under
the trees, the children would squeal with extra delight as the
raindrops pelted them. Some would lie on the water’s edge with
their mouths open, drinking from
the sky fountain.
The
children rapidly forged new friendships as
they splashed, flopped and laughed in the water. The scene was so
universal and elemental, and it
was comforting knowing that it was
being duplicated in
a thousand other places
as the Earth spun through its
daily revolution. Why did this simple tableaux move me so deeply and
heal me so profoundly?
Was
it because we float in our mothers’ water? Could it be because our
misnamed planet is actually 71% water? Or
is it because of the
astonishing power of water to eventually
cleanse even the most grotesque
battlefield? I don’t
have the answer, but for me water IS an answer that soothes and
renews.
After
the visitors leave
the beach, I have an early evening ritual that I indulge in. I hang
my solar shower in the rigging and
place a towel nearby.
Then I dive into the sea and swim about 30 yards up ahead of my
little ship’s bow. I then roll over onto my back and float slowly
down
to the boat. I repeat this for about 20 minutes and then I climb
back aboard and luxuriate in the hot shower.
After
drying off, I go below and fetch the ingredients for my Tarzan Tea.
This includes a coconut, a machete, a lime and a bottle of rum.
Seated with my back
against the mast and drink in hand, I let the sun’s descent and the
stars almost timid
appearance transport my
thoughts where they wish.
*******
Most
of the kids on the beach had been Latino and Indio, with
a few white youngsters
mixed in as well. These were definitely children without borders.
The sea, the sand and the sun were all unifiers. Laughter
and smiles transcend all languages.
But
despite this holistic unity, my thoughts turned to how different the
daily experiences of these kids would be. Those
returning to El Norte would be
immersed in a force
field of artificiality and confusion that the youngsters down here
south of many borders would luckily escape. In
fact, the odd phrase “The White Child’s Burden” sprang into my
consciousness.
These
happy youngsters – so new to the world and so innocent - would
have to fight
their way through a totally unnecessary emotional and cultural
labyrinth erected by clue-less (and possibly malicious) adults.
They
will be told that the difference between boys and girls is not
biological - but is cultural. The boy children will face a future in
which they have to suffer from unwarranted accusations of “toxic
masculinity.” The grownups will force feed these children the lie
that girls and boys are just the same in their interests and
abilities.
The
labyrinth that they will have to escape also has monsters within it
that further
confuse and frighten the poor children. Which bathroom am I supposed
to use? Why are drag queens being elevated to role model status?
How can I deserve “white
guilt”
when I don’t even know what it is? Why
does the innate boisterousness of boys need to be dampened with drugs
laced with dangerous side effects?
*******
As
the twilight deepened, I suspect that my animal neighbors in the sea
and the sky,
noticed my posture slacken as the tragedy
and sadness of these
realizations swept over
me. I
slumped against the mast and tried to comfort myself with the
understanding
that most of the children that I had seen today would not have to
suffer from these adult abominations.
And
I found solace in the fact that for years I have been offering my
readers a solution to
this
misguided approach to child-raising. I have tried to inspire them to
sail away from the “real world” and embrace the sea gypsy life.
By doing so, they can raise their children in harmony with Nature -
and in harmony with the
authentic pathways that have nurtured our children for a thousand
generations.