Living in the World

On Brigadoon, we live closer to the world, more in it, attached, in tune, connected.  It's raining now.  I hear the rain on the decks, pattering against the pilot house roof, on the ports, making ticking sounds on the bimini cover.  When we lay in bed the rain is just a few feet above our heads, pattering us to sleep, whispering against the hull...

Too many insulate themselves from the world, only looking out their windows, entering the world from in their car, from their open garage door, only to return again at the end of the day, in the same car, through the same garage door.  Some do go outside, disconnecting themselves from their computers, from their games, the TV, but only for short periods of time.

Us, we are always "out".

On Brigadoon, the world's water supports us.  We move with it almost incessantly.  The breezes push on the mast, sing in the rigging at times, swaying our home this way and that.  The water is not only all around us.  We are literally in the water.  When you sit in the cabin of Brigadoon your waist and legs are actually below the lake surface.  You are in the water, supported by it, held up, encircled.

The rain continues to patter as I look out the pilot house, over the lake, towards the city.

Brigadoon rocks gently as one or the other of us moves about inside, the weight shifting us this way and that, moving in, part of, being in, the world.