Balancing on Your Sea Legs

This month we’re talking about finding our center so that no matter what emotion we are feeling, we can always be in balance. This is an excerpt from End the Struggle and Dance With Life, where Susan discovers her center … as well as her sea legs.

Many years ago I was on a sailboat in the Caribbean. The owners of the sailboat were John and his fiancée, new friends I had made on my two-week vacation. In John’s effort to show me a wonderful time (or test my courage!), he set sail at dusk for a neighboring island where we were going to spend the night. It didn’t bother him that it was almost dark and the seas were incredibly rough, but it sure bothered me!

As the sails were hoisted and we were in open seas, I found myself being rocked wildly from side to side. I tried very hard to steady both the sea and the boat, but needless to say, neither would cooperate. I sat rigidly on the bench lining the left side of the boat, resisting each up-and-down motion and feeling seasickness quickly come upon me. I decided this would never do. I had to try another approach.

Somewhere within me I had the presence to stand up and fight my way to the center of the deck on which I had been sitting. I then faced forward and steadied myself by placing the palms of my hand onto a waist-high storage box that was secured to the deck. I clearly remember making the decision to let go of my resistance and to surrender to the movement below my feet and to anything that might befall us on our journey in the little boat. It was a “Take over, Universe!” kind of feeling.

I soon felt loose, free, and strangely at peace, a far cry from the place of fear, resistance, and rigidity in which I had been just a few moments before. Having reached what I now recognize as a Higher-Self state, it took only a matter of moments to discover what the concept of sea legs was all about. Instead of fighting the turbulence, I went with it, allowing my legs to move up and down with the motion of the boat. The result was that my torso (my center) remained steady while my legs were beautifully riding the sea.

By just shifting my weight to accommodate the movement of the boat, I created an incredible sense of flow. The sea, the boat, and I had become one. Seasickness does not exist in such an exalted state of flow. Talk about a natural high! Talk about exquisite moments!

By simply shifting my relationship to all that was around me, I was able to turn misery into ecstasy—Hell into Heaven.