Well, who knew this would be the one that would be tough for me to write? It seems simple, right? The whole concept of an anchor should be one-dimensional. You lay it down, and your boat stays in place. That was my premise for this edition of the blog, but then the rewrites happened, and let me tell you this… my writing anchor was pulled up so many times as I wanted to venture further into the subject.
Here’s the thing: in the simplest of terms, we put an anchor down to keep the boat in place while allowing gentle movement. When you leave the boat, you know it will be there when you return. The problem with the anchor is this: when left in the same place for too long, it meddles in the sea floor. You still get the sway, but it doesn’t allow you to move forward and, quite frankly, makes you question if you want to at all. You know you’re safe there. You are not dragging or running into obstacles that could cause damage. You know the routine of the anchorage—where to go if you need something. There is very little work to be done. No sails to raise and no items to stow if you decide to move forward. It’s a simple and comfortable existence. That being said, is it rewarding? What are the possibilities and the pitfalls if you pull that anchor up? There are no guarantees you will have a smooth sail to your next destination, nor will it be a quick voyage. You will have to spend time tacking back and forth, adjusting your sails to accommodate the wind. You may be uncomfortable at times and downright frightened at others as you wonder why you ever pulled up that anchor in the first place. The reward comes when you reach your next destination. You drop your sails, point the boat into the wind, and release the anchor. It clicks down until it hits the bottom. You gently put the boat into reverse to set it, and then, when you are confident in your holding ground, you look around and think, “Wow, this place is beautiful, and I cannot wait to explore it.”
