Keeping your cookies down, learning how to walk tightropes....

This jewel is Equality.


Equilibrium is a crazy thing. Sea sickness is all about your equilibrium being off. It makes you dizzy, sick to the stomach, unable to focus. Now if your physical equilibrium can being off can mess you up like that imagine what your emotional, mental, social, etc equilibirium being off will do to you. It will kcuf you up that’s what it’ll do. When you mental equilibrium is off you are likely to get physically sick and depressed. When your physical equilibrium is off you are likely to be sluggish in your thinking and making a lot of wrong choices.

Working on the boat you can’t help but to think of balance. You are on a craft rocking back and forth on water, cutting waves, and breezing past the surf. Mentally you want to be on the Middle Path, Golden Path, Middle Pillar. Physically you want to be on rocking a
proper food pyramid , physically sound tone for frame, etc.

Being on the ship made me think of moderation and my own father a lot. He’s in his 80’s, gets around, and is physically/mentally sharp. I notice that he keeps a nice center in terms of emotional, mental and physical extremes. He also does what he needs to do in order to upkeep all of those 3 points. It’s all about not overextending oneself. I had to learn the lesson on the boat because it is a mistake that I had made a lot on land. Over extension will sap your resources without renewal. It will weaken you. It also sets many to take advantage of you where they never develop their own strengths. We want for others what we want for our self yet the proper way to bring this about is to teach them to fish instead of giving up the whole fish reserves.

Being thrown into a whole new environment I was learning how to function. I also observed my whole learning process so that when I returned to the land I could learn it all over again. The environment on the boat was challenging at times. I got bleach burns from the chemicals, I found out that racism was on the down low all over the boat, I craved the sunlight at all times being that my quarters had no natural light.

BTW….if you when you don’t have Equality in your life you end up as a candidate for Iniquity (in-equality). Don’t die in your own iniquity.

After developing the crazy hardness on my hands from cleaning I came across this article.


What I Like in a Man: Sandpaper Hands


By Erica Beeney
November 2006, Volume 146, Issue 5
Esquire
Maybe my bias from growing up in Colorado. One late spring, my friend Dave took me up into the mountains on a road I was never able to find again. We stood on the riverbank and blew up the patched gray raft together. We climbed on, and the world sped up and closed in—nothing but trout-colored water, white spray, and my heart beating in my mouth. Then we hit the rock. I got dumped over the side and lost a fingernail while fighting to shore. My teeth chattered as I blubbered and sucked my blood. Dave knew just what to do. He struck a match on his palm to start a fire. His hands were as rough as sandpaper, hardened by calluses—the kind of hands that could save you.

A smooth hand is nothing to be proud of. Calluses tell a story: a weekend spent repairing fence posts, replacing the oil filter on the Triumph, tacking across the harbor in a hard wind. Calluses are the proof of doing something that was hard enough to do that it made scars. And unlike tans and white teeth, calluses can't be faked. A free climb up the face of El Capitan leaves blisters; watching someone else do it on the Discovery Channel doesn't.

When did we start believing that life wasn't supposed to leave marks? I don't want my man's hands to remind me of my little brother's. I want them to be strong and maybe even a little bit scary. I want them to be the kind of hands you don't say no to. If your hand makes me picture you sweating, I picture sweating with you. (I'm blushing now; a pause as I fan myself gently.) So spit on those palms, rub them together, and get to work. Leave some skin behind on an ax handle. Make your fingers bleed on that guitar you haven't picked up since college. Then grab a girl. You'll have her at the first touch.