Blogging from A to Z: C is for Calendar

During the month of April last year, I participated in the A to Z Blogging Challenge - one alphabet-themed post per day (except Sundays).  I had such a good time with it that I'm doing it again this year.  I'm loosely organized on the theme of downsizing, minimalism, and small-home living that I've learned in 14 years of living on a small boat.  I'm starting with A is for Anchoring Out, Anger-ing Out, and ending with Z is for Zout and Zwarte Peper (Dutch for salt and black pepper). Click on the A to Z logo on the lower left sidebar for links to many other bloggers participating in the challenge.

The most dangerous thing you'll ever see on a boat

"The most dangerous thing you can have aboard, is a calendar," announced my friend Ellen.  She and her husband James were our mentors on our first trip down the ICW in 2009.  If a calendar dictates your schedule, instead of the realities of the natural world, you might easily find yourself taking off in less-than-ideal weather conditions because, well, today was the day you had planned to set sail, not a day earlier or later, come what may.  Or you might depart without some system working quite right, just because the calendar said today was the day to go, even if you didn't feel ready.  On a shorter time scale, our marina has quite a strong tidal current running through it, and we often see people get in trouble pulling out of their slip because they wanted to leave at a certain hour rather than wait for (or get up early to make) slack tide. Commercial or military ships, of course, get a by on this; they are expected to go at a scheduled time.  I'm thinking of the people for whom the departure time is optional or even arbitrary. Those are the ones who put themselves unnecessarily in harm's way -- or at least, in discomfort's way -- by adherence to a schedule planned in advance without the ability to modify it to accommodate current conditions.

But calendars aren't dangerous just to our physical selves, while we're living aboard.  Sticking to a calendar can rob you of opportunities to feed the soul too.  What if leaving when planned instead of staying in port an extra few days meant you wouldn't be able to attend a cool festival happening next weekend, or stick around to cement a friendship with a fascinating person you just met, another cruiser who ironically arrived the day before you scheduled to go?

The biggest danger of the calendar, though, happens while we're living in one place for a while.  The calendar invites us to fill our days and we build up a list of things to do.  Some are cool things, like getting together with friends to try a new restaurant, or signing up to volunteer for a worthy cause.  Some are important parts of adulting, like going to work, or dentist appointments or doing our taxes.  And some are just flat-out busy-ness of modern life in a city, buying groceries and doing laundry and replying to emails and shopping and spending and juggling.  Soon, every single day has a to-do, or multiple to-dos, planned. And then there's no time left for spontaneity, for watching a sunset or getting lost in a novel or listening to bird songs or helping a neighbor.  Sara, in her blog Wondertime says it so articulately:

...the best days are not the ones where I get the most things done. The best days are the ones without a list leading the way, where we just let the day unfold and explore the world however we feel that day and let whatever happens, happen. They are the days when we take the time to wonder.

Of course, its unrealistic to expect never to have plans or schedules or to-dos on the calendar.  Still, it's nice to strike a balance and resist unnecessary structure. The name of our species is an important reminder -- we're human beings, not human doings.

Sunrise at anchor, Beaufort, SC.  When we had jobs, we always set the alarm an hour early.  This was our time to sit quietly together with a cup of coffee and talk about anything and everything, before the pressures of the day began.

On our way to the tall ship today to discuss our schedule, we stopped on the dock for about 5 minutes watching this snowy egret fish for his supper.  I'm fascinated by the way birds take advantage of the artifacts of human life.