Vol.24 "125 Degrees East"

A Bit of Back Story

I was a teenager when I learned some of life’s biggest lessons – self-reliance and the power to dream. I was truly unprepared for these lessons, yet there I was. I found myself the unintended “captain” of a 42-foot (12.80 meters) boat named the ‘Lily Pad’, sailing through the pitch darkness into the unknown.

I was on an open water adventure with Jerry (my stepfather) as we set sail, together, on an odyssey that (unbeknownst to me at the time) shaped my future.

We launched from the Hudson River in New Jersey on a bright morning, passed under the George Washington Bridge, past Ellis Island and The Statue of Liberty, under the Verrazzano Narrows Bridge then into open water. Destination: Block Island, Rhode Island.

The Challenge

The Lily Pad was a large ocean-going vessel certainly capable and up to the task. Me? Not so much. I was a ‘child”, inexperienced and barely qualified to take the helm.

We intentionally set a course well offshore, well outside the view of land, lights, leaving any trace of civilization far behind. This was a true adventure; this was before GPS and radio communications were sketchy at best.

We were on our own, I was on my own.

Into the Darkness

Although I knew what I was doing, this was a big ask. Jerry and I slept in 3-hour shifts, each a solo adventurer and responsible for each other’s lives. "No pressure".

During the transition to my 2nd shift, Jerry and I did some charting and we decided that I must hold a course of 125 degrees east for 2 hours. "Sure, no problem".

There I was, alone.

I was engulfed in darkness with the exception of the amber glow of my trusty compass. “125 east, ok, got it”.

Funny thing about darkness, it consumes you. The skies were overcast with some low hanging clouds prior to sunset, and now, added another layer of darkness and quiet, like a pillowy blanket of insulation. This was the kind of darkness where I couldn’t tell where the ocean ended and the sky began, there was no visible horizon, just darkness.

Trusting Myself

Ok self, go time: adjust a line or two, remember my basics, follow the course, trust myself – “I got this”.

Although 125 east was a general direction, boats, especially sailboats, don’t move in a straight line. 125 east was the average goal, not a finite destination.

In addition to darkness, there was little sound except for the wind in the sails and the calmness of the water lapping against the hull. It was DARK and I was in charge of my destiny.

“Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times if one only remembers to turn on the light” ~ Albus Dumbledore

The Moon River

After an hour or so, the clouds parted and the stars were on full display, with their light reflecting on the water. Then it happened, the MOON!

My brain couldn’t quite figure it out, but there was a glow on the horizon and my mind couldn’t quite comprehend what I was witnessing. Somewhere between the literal end of the world and the opening of the heavens.

My emotions were all over the place, I was afraid, I was calm, I was curious, and I wanted to run. One small problem with that, there was nowhere to hide!

Then, the most incredible thing happened. I witnessed the rise of a full moon on the horizon, the glow of the reflection on the water created a river, a “moon river” and it was EXACTLY my heading – 125 DEGREES EAST.

The light was reflecting off each wave surface like a fractal that together, created an illusion of solid light. I was mesmerized at the spectacle.

Each reflection memory of my past, and simultaneously, a dream window to my future.

Reflecting on the Journey

Over the decades, I never really found the chance to ask Jerry if he did that on purpose, set us on that course. At the time, it was amazing, as life went on, it became inspiring.

Jerry lived 92 years with three different cancers for 30+ of those years. Knowing Jerry, and the type of person he was, he intentionally set me on that path – this was not random. True or not, my memories of him are kept alive and he helped shape me.

Jerry lifted me up when I needed it most.

Lessons from the Moon River

Sailing on that “moon river” taught me to take control and enjoy the journey through the corridors of uncertainty, guided by the gentle, warm embrace of hope.

It was a voyage that spoke to the heart of my human experience, navigating through the unknown with only the light of the moon as my guide, this reminded me that even in the absence of the sun, there is always light to be found.

The Metaphor of the Moon River

My “moon river” is a metaphor for my life's journey. The river, with its ebb and flow, represents the passage of time and the various phases I encounter. The moon's light, reflecting on the water, serves as a beacon of inspiration and guidance, illuminating my path as I sail towards the horizon of my goals and aspirations.

The darkness of the night symbolizes the challenges and mysteries that I face, while the river of light from the moon symbolizes the clarity and understanding that emerges from within.

It's my reminder that there is beauty in the journey, even when the destination is shrouded in mystery and is often scary.

Now, as I sail into the unknown, the moon river whispers to me that there is always light in darkness, and that with each move forward, I move closer to discovering the wonders that lie just beyond my sight and over the horizon.

Embracing the Adventure

This is my poetic embrace of the adventure that is life, encouraging me to sail forth with courage and anticipation, knowing that the moon's guiding light will always be there to lead me through the night, once again to find safe harbor.

Facing Uncertainty

So why this story? and, why now?

I’m once again facing uncertainty, sailing into the darkness of having cancer for the 3rd time. I know there is light through this darkness.

Wherever this path of light takes me, I’m ready. I am the captain of my ship, and I choose happiness.

Thank you to all my loyal readers for your support and inspiration. This will be my last volume for a few months while I focus on my healing and recovery. Thank you SoftwareOne for your support and encouragement.

This is not a goodbye; this is a new beginning. See you soon.

125 Degrees East – I've got this.

~Kevin J. Bernstein (aka The Cloud Therapist)