To live in whoville; how do we get back...

I begun this writting several years ago the first christmas season after my seperation from my wife. I found it and thought that it is still very appropriate and needed to be completed. I hope you enjoy it. I have made a few observations that I have added to the text.


To live in Whoville…

Most remember Whoville and the Grinch that stole Christmas. But beyond the idea that this small town with its strong community spirit changed the hardened Grinch's heart who lives in Whoville?

You know I live actually grew up in a small town called Everson Washington. Everson even now 35 years later has a population that was 2,035 at the 2000 census. It was under a thousand when I was growing up like 700 or so. My dad was a local farmer and had coffee with the other farmers each morning to discuss the seasons and the town politics. I am sure that my Dad probably knew half of everyone that lived in Everson and he really was an isolationist. The town I went to school Lynden Washington had about 2000, and now has 9,020. Both of these towns qualify for Whoville.

So I am quite aware of small town living as it represents even to this day 50% or more of my total life. I spent my life working on a farm, and going to church. I went to a private school for most of my life and never was exposed to big city living till I moved to Dallas at 34. Most do not believe after they get to know me that I was born and raised on a small farm. I don't look like a farm boy anymore. I guess I have donned the fast talking city slicker role and have the trappings that are fitting of a Houstonian. Even though I live in the town of Kemah which still only has 2,330 people. In reality I still live in Whoville.

I hope though that even though I have a lifestyle that corresponds to a metropolis of 8+ million people that my concern and true beliefs about people show my upbringing. I try to live my life so that people can see that I value everyone and treat them with respect. I try to add value to a conversation, I try to teach and instruct in areas that I have experience. I give of myself hoping to bring a benefit to those that I touch. I have gone through many phases in my life from Learner to Conquerer to now a new phase in my life that I will call Teacher.

Now only a couple of years later people look at my aging apearance and think that I am a hardened corporate pirate, when in fact I am the same sensitive individual that has to look away at rough comments that hurt my feelings. People see me at work and think, "I would never want to be on the other side of the table from him." When really I sit around watching my phone for a text from someone special and plan what the next weekends surprise is for my girl. Now I live in Kemah Texas a town of 2,330 right next to the 4th largest city in the country Houston Texas. Kemah is a bay town, typical of any small maritime town. Everything seems to revolve around tradition and the water and the economy and lore that it provides.

Small towns typically have a strong sense of community as people are more able to keep up with what is going on. The politics and community is much simpler than the complex workings of a large city. When the cities get larger it takes more time to keep up with their inner workings and therefore start to take away from friends and family. At some point we become completely displaced and no longer can maintain knowledge of what is going on and why. Here in Kemah everyone still remembers the ground breaking of the bank etc.

I still live on my boat some 4 years later and still keep to myself so even in a town of 2,330 people noone knows me. I do like to buy locally or from a nearby town as you get the feeling that someone actually cares. You get the sense that you are helping someone retire, or send their kids away to college to have a good shot at life. In Houston buyers act like people are just trying to take advantage of them and in many cases if they had the chance they would do just the same.

I work in Houston a lot and it always surprises me how few people buy from honest value bringing companies. They would rather save a penny then do business with an honorable company. Or another way to say it is when you are talking with them and trying to build value in your solution other than the hard and tangible items they just do not care. In fact you really get the sense that they are all anarchists as they do not support or show any concern for the community at all. I guess I miss the small town hey Bob you were $10 more but I'll buy from you because I know that Jimmy is playing football at TU this year and you are going to need the extra money. People were not adverse to allowing someone to make an honest profit on them. Instead they all want to cut someone out of a commission and to figure out how to get it the cheapest they can? Is that really what is important?

Whatever happened to those days of community? If someone lost a job that family would not go hungry, if a child had needs they would not go unanswered. At what point did we turn so far inward that we have forgotten our heritage? I would guess that most people do live outside of the large metropolises. It is my guess also that most do remember giving a damn about other people, so what drove us away from caring?

What made us so greedy that all we care about is making a fast buck or 2 more than we really deserve? What makes us think that we deserve whatever we can choke out of people? What is our entitlement? What commission do we carry that makes us privateers over just plain ruthless pirates?

You have seen me write about it before but at times of the year like this I get more disgusted with what I see than other times of the year. From late winter to early fall I race every other weekend and live on a 34 foot race boat with 10 other people that our lives and success depend on each other. Even though we have moments where we would like to kill each other and even yell at one another we would fight to the death if something were to happen to one of us. During the winter months I do not have this influence and typically focus more on work. With the holidays this makes these months short and the work load is much greater as many people are not interested in purchasing large items at work they are more interested in the things they need to buy for their family.

So by the time Thanksgiving comes around I am pretty full of Houston and work. I have had 4 or 5 people stab me in the back and maybe a few in the chest while looking at me. At the Thanksgiving table sit and reflect on my life and my family. Most of them having past away it is really more of a memorial day than a day of festivities. Memorial Day of course is one of the most important race weekends during the year so you can be assured that I do not slow down to visit those that have gone before us on that weekend. Thanksgiving on the other hand is the day that I typically reflect. I remember all of the things that have brought me to here; the blessings, the miracles everything that has transpired over the last year that I should give thanks for.

Growing up Thanksgiving was a time when we didn't involve friends. It was strictly immediate family. Now with a sister in Tulsa and a Dad in Bend I really don't have any parts of that anymore. During my marriage I was part of another family and did engage with them over Thanksgiving. I had earned the right to be family and worked hard to provide. I always was involved in each of their lives as we had opportunity to do so and enjoyed the time with them. They had a very large immediate family and holidays were filled with nieces and nephews, lots of food and laughter. Oh how I long to have that sense of true family again.

Anymore I try to stick to myself during such times and remember what I am trying to accomplish with the years that I have left. I reflect on the ideas of my youth and the wisdom that I have painfully purchased over the years. I think back on my mother and how she would have supported me in my endeavors and my brother how he would have been such a great success had he lived past 16. I look at the few survivors of our family and do not see the accomplishments that I would have liked to. I see more battle scars and survival.

I HAVE enjoyed Houston because of the economy and the size of the metropolis gives it tolerance for new ideas. I have paid the ultimate price in this new transition; even with a good job and strong economy I am at risk of losing someone that I love and had hoped to spend my life with.

In large cities people do not get involved with your life and therefore are more tolerant of ideas that are not their own. Other the other hand they are so far removed that they would rather kick you into the street in front of a moving bus than look at you. I guess there is no happy medium. If the city is small enough to get to know you then they feel obligated to judge you.

So where does that leave the Pirate of Galveston Bay in the holiday season? Living hard and fast has got moved me forward in my career but left me alone. My choices have pushed out those whom I love and left me alone. Where will I be Christmas? Sitting on my boat with a glass of rum looking across the Bay in search of wind.

So when did we turn our backs on our community; when did we get so busy that we don't time for those around us?

I do believe in diversity! I do believe in tolerance for others ideas, even when they do not suit me. I wish we could bring Whooville to Houston and Dallas. Have you ever wished that on a place? How can we get more involved with our community? Is it just community service? Is it talking to and getting to know your immediate neighbors? What about school, church, the grocery store? What about the guy driving the BMW next to you on your way to work? Oh no not that prick, he cut me off. To hell with him! Is that what we are left with? Seeing if we can get home from work without killing someone because they upset us? Is that how we were raised?

I think that most of us had parents that would be astounded and ashamed if they were to see our actions once we leave the house. I don't think they would condone us taking advantage of others just because we can, or they can afford it. And I hope that our parents didn't do that to others that we just didn't see. I hope that they really did care for their community and participate in the solution and not be a part of the problem. Every once in a while I am surprised at how someone genuinely goes out of their way to help someone just because it was the right thing to do.

As it is I live in Whoville and work in Houston. I try to keep one foot in hell and one in heaven. Walking the thin line between the two worlds is a dangerous place to be. I still have dreams of people doing right while all day watching people try to destroy each other. I now have developed dreams of having my own family since I can not have mine old one back. Even now in my 40's I feel unequiped for the painfull experiences that I endure. I must have missed the classes that tought how to survive? I don't remember "Screw them 101", or "Get them first 203" in my schools curriculum. Is it our teacher's faults as after parents they spend the next most amount of time with our children. Parents, Teachers, Pastors, Family, Friends who gave up?

I think I would give up the anonymity that I get from the large city to bring back a sense that we are working for a purpose. The connection that we had as children because everything did seem connected and that we were all interrelated somehow. I liked walking into the store and seeing someone that I know. I like it when they show concern for a sick relative or are excited about a new job my Dad got. It is amazing sometimes how close we really are when you look at it. I still run into old school friends in Dallas even though we are thousands of miles apart and 3 decades later. It truly is a small world so is it just in our minds? Did we turn off our consciences just so we could tolerate the things we do to people? Is in inherent in us not the size of town that we live in.

You can take the boy out of the country, but you can't take the country out of the boy. So where does that leave the new Pirate of Galveston Bay? Much older and close to losing his dream of ever connecting the dots of family, love community. What is it about those that we love that pushes them away or makes them give up? I have lived hard and fast, so now how do I get anyone to believe that I really can live idle and slow?

How do I get back to Whovillle?



Our Master’s Prayer

Our Father which art in Tokyo,

Ricoh be thy name,

Thy kingdom come,Thy will be done in the US, as it is in Japan.

Give us this day our pulverized toner.

And forgive us for our lack of prospecting; as we forgive our slave drivers, I mean sales managers for their whippings.

And lead us not into whoreishness,but deliver us from our competitors!

For thine is the C900,and the tight registration, and the true rated speed,forever and ever or at least to the midpoint in the lease.

Amen
Pirate Mike

Obviously just for fun, so don't get bent out of shape over it...

Put the battle axe down one more time…

There are days that we wake up and just feel good. I love that total feeling of satisfaction. It is funny when you realize that it doesn't come from a particular act or outcome. It is from being at peace with yourself and right with the world. We can be satisfied on many levels, but it is rare to just be at peace with everything. There is usually some area of our life that we are "at war" with.

I work in outside sales in an industry that is hyper competitive and even at times a bit ruthless. I find that many days I am at war with myself, my manager, my reps, my competition, my clients and my prospects. At any given moment I can go from calm to battle ready. Whether fighting to resolve a customer issue or battle an internal fight protecting my turf. Over the last 5-6 years I have seen a lot of events that many times make me shake my head. I think that is where the anxiety came from. I never used to be anxious. This business has brought me to a place that really I would have rather avoided. The anxiety has shown me how frail we really are. It has also shown me how powerful our mind is. My job has made me acutely aware of how important it is to have strong emotional control.

In all of this "warring" we find ourselves in brief moments where everyone seems to put down their weapons and paused for a fleeting second. In those times when we are not wielding the battle axe we realize how precious these times are and how we would like to "stay in the moment." In Dallas it seems like the moments when the world just stops are far and few between. They are very powerful though, many times fueling us for months on end. Just like wood for a fire or gasoline to a car, they are the substance that gets us to our next destination. This contentment is spoken of in every religion and in every tongue and even spelled out in the nature clearly for everyone to witness.

Nature is the silent revealer of the truth. Just like a jury makes a declaration of guilt, nature convicts us of the truth which has been set before us. All one has to do is stop even if for a moment and really listen. Our senses reveal the truth that we already know in our hearts. It is interesting how each faith puts emphasis on being content and describes the process. What I do know is that when it happens; when the world stops even for a second you will know.

It is like the rush that an addict chases, we are all seeing satisfaction. We seek it on every level in each area of our lives. Once experienced you will never forget it; peace the solitary thought that resides with no other. When the mind is cleared of everything, when the battle axe is put down only then can you experience peace. Contentment is place that you can physically visit. Once you are there the only thought left is to stay there and the only goal becomes not drifting back. To be content is to be free of needs, wants or anxiety; contentment is the fuel for the engine of peace. Within peace we find the truths explained about the things that we experience in nature. Nature is a reflection of the creator, a mirror of his spirit and the product of his own hands. As we a molded creature of clay, formed by the work on the great potter's wheel. From dust we began and to dust we shall return.

Life moves so fast that we many times lose sight of anything important. As we get older we give up on learning, we do not impart our virtues that we believe in to others. I try to experience something new every day; feel a strong emotion every day; give of myself every day; believe something every day; use all of my senses to explain my surroundings. I hope that my battles in Dallas will eventually allow me to fall back from the front lines and become a observer of the insanity that is now our global community.

Today I will put the battle axe down just for a moment… and exhale…

Pirate Mike.

"As the sun rises from the depths of the water so to our hopes, dreams and aspirations are renewed; as the sun heads back to its watery grave so do our fears subside as we know with a new day comes new beginnings. Our failures have not chained us to our weaknesses but revealed them to ourselves so that can be overcome. Our strengths have been magnified to carry us through our failures to new heights."

To Live and Love...

Life is like an ocean, it changes direction many times over its course. The ocean is a living and breathing body and the water is it's blood and the land masses it's arteries and veins. Love is like the current of the ocean it is not life but it is what pushes and drives us to get to our destination. The currents of the ocean take the water that brings life to every area of the planet. So to love brings to us all the nourishment that we need to be sustained. Without the currents the coral and reefs would die, and so the chain of life would wither with it. Without love as the driving passion of our being we too would die just as a baby without human touch.

The wind works with and sometimes against the currents to help with the spreading of the water over the planet. So to are our actions as they spread the truth of our heart to those that watch us. Our actions just like the wind sometimes go against what we profess. In the end we are known for our actions not our words, and just like the winds that cross the oceans they too are named for the direction that they go. Just as the wind stirs up the sea, so to our actions stir up the imaginings of the hearts around us. The winds do not carry the burden of responsibility on their own, nor do our actions as the responsibility lies in our hearts and minds.

The continents of the world create the road map for the oceans to follow like a mountain guide in a state park. The land masses create the environment that the water flows to and from. Just as our mind sets the stage that will allow our love to either leave or be locked up within our body and our soul. Bays, Channels and Seas all different formations of land that give each area of the world a distinct pathway for the current to push the water to each creature bringing life and life more abundantly. Just as the circumstances and events that mold our lives and give us the uniqueness of character to impact others and bring to them what they need.

Great sailing ships that brave the open oceans alone without fear, are much like the vessel of our heart that carries our love to the ends of the Earth. Just as the sailing ships can go against the wind, currents and tide, so to can our heart take us to places that we never dreamed. Even as the ships brave the weather and elements so to our hearts the fear of rejection and betrayal. Even as pirates are a feared encounter on the water so to is the event of true love feared by all those that have traveled those waters before.

For as we travel and give of ourselves, just as pirates someone we have loved has taken from us. But in the midst of the battle, swords drawn as the sound of steel pierces the distance, we must rejoice as our soul cries for freedom. Just as our heart has 2 sides that beat as one, so too is another soul that searches even as we speak. They too are a wandering spirit seeking a destiny that may not be apparent. And if ever you dare allow your ship to carry you across the currents of life, you will encounter that one that makes you whole. The one wanderer that brings nourishment to your spirit and sustenance to your soul is just around the bend.

Therefore strike out and fear not, as your heart speaks. Allow the current of your mind to take you away. Allow the body of your ship to take to the winds and allow yourself time to search far and near. Never allow the distance to bother you. Let the power of your love take you away from the tragedies that you have endured, and allow the newness of the day to take you to new places in your soul. Hide in those new places and you sail across the ocean. For one day you will come across another that completes you.

"The seas never stop, they come and go bringing to their inhabitants the substance of life, so is the tide of our life, people come and go and with them they bring the substance of life… don't ever give up on people, as you will have given up on your yourself…" – Pirate Mike (personal quote)

Sitting on the back of my boat...

Sitting on the back of my sailboat, watching the seagulls fight over scraps that have been thrown over by wayward sailors I sit and think about what am I going to do today. I look off the starboard bow and see 2 red eared slider turtles floating hoping lunch is served soon. A grey Haran stands by the edge of the bank waiting a baby perch to get a bit closer so that his belly can be full. I realize that I too am hungry.

Going down below I remove the companionway boards that have been fashioned out of acrylic. These boards are fashioned very similar to the way sailors have been making their boats for hundreds of years. The main difference is that these boards are not out of Teak, but an acrylic. My main complain with them is that they are cumbersome and see through. When down below visitor that pass by the transom of the boat can peer in and see what is going on inside of the cabin.

When I get the boards out of the way and I make my way down the 3 steps skipping the last 2. This little sailor skip I developed to not have to spend so much time getting down below. I'm sure I save at least a second or two and definitely risk my neck if I land wrong, but it seems so nautical or "boat like." When I land I reach into the cupboards and get out lunch. Bread, lots of it and a jar of peanut butter, and a spoon is all I need. Arriving topsides, I sit back down behind the helm and get my spoon. The great thing about a spoon is it can be used to spread the peanut butter and used to just scoop some out for quick consumption. After making my sandwich, I salute several passersby with a jovial ahoy, and go back to my sandwich.

Dock life is very formal in the most informal way. There is just a certain "code" that dock mates follow one of which is to always greet everyone, even if you do not like them. This code makes everyone appear extremely friendly. The root of this is that you want to be kind to everyone, as in an emergency all are your saviors. The code definitely follows you onto the water, and whenever someone is in need of assistance all grudges are off.

Behind me I hear the all too familiar swoosh of carp coming to the surface. Sometimes 3 maybe even 4 feet long these scavengers will eat anything. From dog food, to algae growing on the bottom of your sailboat, they will crunch or scrape it off with their bony tooth. They must have done a lot of crack as they only have a tooth. They will drag this tooth across the bottom of your boat and wake you up at all hours, day and night. Don't let a few of them get wind that your boat has not had its bottom job done in six months or you will find that they will all come to dine.

I finish my sandwich and realize that I haven't moved very far since breakfast. Being that it is a Saturday I really should follow my normal routine and clean, scrub and do boat maintenance so that I can head out. Today is different, no party cove, no scrub the boat till I'm worn out. Today is a different day. Today I am going to pretend is Sunday, and I think I will just sit here and watch the world turn. The sun has already made his pilgrimage out of the depths of the lake, and it is at "high noon." The clouds have taken the day off and are nowhere in sight. Summer is quickly approaching and so are the 100 degree days. Today is different it is a mean 75 degrees. No wind so don't bother thinking about going sailing, besides that is more of a Saturday activity and today is Sunday remember?

My boat rocks gently from side to side, as a fisherman pays no attention to my home as he heads off to find his hidden treasure beneath the dark and wrinkled folds of the lake. I excuse him as he is just a guest into my world and does not know how he is intruding. Most have no idea that the peace of the lake and my life on it, is intruded when a rouge wake comes to meet my hull. The hull pushes back, but eventually gives in to the power of the wake of water, and gives to the side gently. With nothing to fight back but a peanut butter spoon, I give up. I would raise the white flag but that would require me to dig into my locker and find the flag, and would require me to give up at lease one mouthful of peanut butter. This is a sacrifice that I cannot make. So without further ado I go back to my spoon.

I see more sailors coming toward me. "Permission to come aboard," I hear. "Permission granted," I exclaim. This is part of that formal informality that I was referring to. The couple boarding my boat have been aboard hundreds of times, and we are close friends, but the formality of requesting permission never ends.

They take perch in the cockpit in the same fashion as I. Laying back like they have nothing to do, but watch the turtles that are still hovering over their lunch. I inquire as to what they have on their list for the day. "Nothing," they exclaim proudly. "We are taking the day off, to just relax." "Ah this is the life," I think to myself, this is the epitome of dock life. "Well, would you like a sandwich?" I ask. "No, we just ate before we came over." "Well whatever should we do?" I asked inquisitively. "Let's drop the tender, and go over to the island and see if anything has washed up from the weekend." They replied.

Now there are a few islands on the lake, they have shores that face main channels of water that the "weekend power boaters" travel. One thing that sail boaters know is that when half naked and drunk power boaters cruise by is that they drop things into the water. Many of those things are quite valuable to real boaters. Life vests, (who would think those are important until the game warden comes by), fenders, coolers, and many other useful objects wash up and land upon the littered shores of the sandbanks and island shores. Now we could leave those items to waste or we could as good stewards of resources go and harvest them, as it were.

We idle over to a much larger boat that has a tender on davits. After lowering the 10" dinghy into the water and starting the little gas motor, we all board and head toward the islands as the fisherman did earlier looking for hidden or sometimes no so hidden treasure. Upon arrival we notice that people have been camping on the islands and left some useful items for us to harvest. After collecting 2 good ski vests, a cooler and 2 fenders we sit back and look at our bounty. Pleased with ourselves we break into the cooler and notice some still cold cans of our favorite beverage. Well 2pm it must be time for a beer I think to myself.

After wandering around I gather my things and we all get together and head back to the docks with our treasure. Upon arriving we look for those in need of the new items. I know that I already have too many life vests and fenders, but there is always someone that can use these items. This time I do not head back to my boat but grab a chair alongside the dock and start another luxurious conversation about nothing with some of my other dock mates that have appeared form the belly of their boat. They too are enjoying a sandwich and are just letting their eyes wander at the nature around them as I had earlier.

This is home... Someday I will do the same thing on the ocean. This is community this is my life, welcome to it....

Pirate Mike..

The seas never stop, they come and go bringing to their inhabitants the substance of life, so is the tide of our life's, people come and go and with them they bring the substance of life… don't ever give up on people, as you will have given up on your yourself… - Another original from Pirate Mike…

The Shimmering Darkness…

The day was finally over, the sun had settled down within the depths of the lake.

The sun had put up quite a fight and left the land bleached and dry.

The lake goers had been drained as they filled the lake with the sentiment of their desires.

As the rebels quieted down, and the crowd parted a new set of sounds took over the area.

The moon arose quickly and settled in about a third of the way into the sky.

Only a sliver its presence was quite diluted as the clouds rolled into place and the stage was being set.

It was the day after the great and terrible day and vengeance was about to take its toll.

The temperatures subsided and the winds once again found the body of water that they call home.

The emergency vehicles had gone home no saving was to be done tonight.

Damage already done the mind wanders, tensions are running high.

Mind drunk with emotion, body full of pain, the potential for quite an evening is building.

As I lay aside the cockpit I looked up and realized that my destiny had called me.

The winds calling my name I could hear them saying, "follow me to the next place."

Obedient and methodical I woke up from my emotional stupor, and took on the responsibility to prepare the vessel.

At the strike of 1:00 am I set sail. Pulling the sun drenched and warmed sails I spoke to them commanding; "take me to the place that the winds are calling from."

With that I leave the cockpit and go down below into the dungeon that I call home.

Frantically digging into the darkness, feeling for a remote audio cd that still brandished its wrapper and label I hope for my release.

As I open the unique promise, I place it into my player and emerge to survey my situation.

Black as night, both lovely and unlovely I find myself echo locating the shoreline.

The winds have taken their position on the lake and made themselves prominent across the lakescape.

Then out of the blackness I see a shimmering darkness.

Heading to weather the wind positioning itself to whisper in my left ear I hold still.

As the wind picked up, the water responded in kind with a motion that took it across the lake.

Rollers they were building from the South as I headed to find the source of the wind.

Just a glimpse of their size as the moon varnished their topsides with a glow that could be seen for miles.

As the motion of the lake took a hold of me, the sound of a distant land came to the forefront.

Sharp and pleasant sounds of a simple land on the continent of Africa filled my head as I squinted to keep track of the shore.

I transported myself as the music took my soul from this ragged body and the emotions that once filled it left.

Waves crashing into the bow and it planted itself firmly into its belly. Spray fills the air as the sounds of the life that is such the beginning of all.

As the tribesmen chant their stories of family and survival, I find myself on the roller coaster of life deep within my heart as it sets happily in my chest, far from the sleeve that it once found a perch.

Whispering in my ear I can hear the wind calling me deeper into an almost trance like state.

Into the shimmering darkness I see the water and land dancing before me, leaving a path that only I can feel.

Song after song, I feel my body coming alive. My senses are overwhelmed and the thoughts of the day are far from me. Now the music takes hold and my hand holds the destiny of the vessel.

Between the thumb and forefinger of the right hand I steer this 6 ton beast. Waves crashing and spraying mist into the air, my mind races ahead in anticipation of what lies next.

Sitting in the port side stern perch, head cocked gently to the side, I try to make out the dam and the source of the wind.

Never admitting but gently remembering that it has called for me before.

An elusive friend the wind befriends the water and makes a pact with my vessel.

Completely in sync with nature as the music recharges my soul.

Now the age of completeness comes as I turn the corner to see the light of my home port.

In the shimmering darkness there I find my peace again.

For in the heat of the day, emotions ran free and the damage of their energy has taken its toll.

But now in the perfectness of the moment my soul is again whole, my mind is at ease and my body is free from pain.

Just arriving to my place, I reposition my home and engage the moon to hide me from the shimmering darkness.

July 5^th – 6^th 2008, on Lewisville Lake, listening to the original Mbube music of Africa while participating in the dance of a lifetime, after an event of emotional magnitude.

"Fair weather does not a skilled sailor make. Even the brightest of skippers must navigate through the storms of life to emerge on the other side, sometimes with nothing to guide them but the shimmering darkness of their soul." – Pirate Mike…

Once a Pirate, Always a Pirate

People for the longest time have asked about the pirate reference. Here is a bit of history from which I will build on that explains a bit of what the reference means. I will explain later how the reference was bestowed upon me. – Pirate Mike…

A Pirates Life is good; he lives outside the sovereign boarders of areas that are ruled by kings. Kings rule by land, Pirates rule themselves, and live on the water. Pirates do not subject themselves to the rules of the land, this offends the rulers because if what they did was taxed they would not be pirates they would be commanders of the Navy! In fact in many references that are relatively recent, countries would hire pirates to do what they could not tell/justify to their subjects that they used the Navy for.

The reference to piracy goes back over 3000 years. It appears that the word pirate (peirato) was first used in about 140 BC by the Roman historian Polybius. The Greek historian Plutarch, writing in about 100 A.D., gave the oldest clear definition of piracy. ¹ In this writing the definition that Plutarch used was, "as those who attack without legal authority not only ships, but also maritime cities"

I think the phrase to focus on in this century is "without legal authority." Pirates answer to no one but God himself. Living on their own terms; finding their own way by day and night using the skills that they have developed by the rights of survival. Survival is the key; pirates live by sea and explore the land for resources. Pirate Captains were providers, using the resources that they find on land to maintain themselves, and their companions that follow their leadership about the ship.

Leadership is a key trait in all successful pirates. Without leadership there is no survival. Old pirates whom have lived by the sword for their entire lives have developed leadership, loyalty, tenacity, and entrepreneur desires. To desire to live free has become the utmost priority. To live and die by your dreams has become the mantra at any cost.

A pirate's fate is not a surprise. Pirates are not shocked by their end. Those that live by the sword know well that their end will be by the sword. Make no mistake, I do nothing that I am not aware of, or understand the consequences that could find me. To live fully and with emotion is important even to the modern day pirate. Without the great successes and failures, we would never know life. I put the war paint on every day and expect to be attacked, surprised, and overwhelmed. A day without such great experiences and emotions would be a sad day. To wake up without purpose, without direction would be like setting sail without a chart. Living life believing that the world is flat, as the Kings of old, is as silly as thinking that your dreams will come to you.

A pirate is not scared to sail toward the horizon. The horizon may look bleak to you, but know in your heart that on the other side is the land of riches. Those riches take many forms, love, destiny, provision, faith, all things that are worthy to fight for. This is the "land" that pirates seek. They live on the water as this is the fastest way to get from "land" to "land." And the "land" represents the riches that are needed to fulfill the destiny.

To live by someone else's rules, the "kings" is following the world and the ways that it promotes. Being subject to the harshness of rules created by marketing, advertising and the "group think" of society leaves one devoid of your own thoughts and beliefs. Subject yourself to your own thoughts, the beliefs that you have forged through fear and trembling. Take this advice with caution. To follow the ideals of "Pirate Mike" will only put you on the radar screen of those that would "steal your dream," "steal your passion," "steal your life." You will not become a pirate but simply making the choice to do so. Living the dream is more than a decision. It is a way of life; it is not easy to do those things which go against the common wisdom of others (kings). I have lived 38 years as a pirate, and I still find myself in fear of taking chances, of sailing off into the horizon. And I do this every day; you would think that it would get easier.

Once you hit the "radar screen," ships will be dispatched to intercept you. Their task will be to stop you from arriving on "land." They know if you get there you WILL get the rewards of what you seek. Not everyone is happy about others achieving their dreams. If you achieve yours that makes them feel insignificant and shows that they have not arrived at theirs. Know they will kill you, and take whatever treasure you have already found and achieved. Does this not make them thieves as well?

Know this if you venture out passed your comfort zone on a daily basis and subject yourself only to God, and not the "kings" of this world you will be a Pirate. You will begin your day putting on the war paint and drawing your sword at any that stand between you and your dreams. Do not draw your sword in jest, only as a matter of life and death. Once out of its sheath it is lethal and will force others to draw a line and come against you.

A smart pirate is quiet, takes only what he and his companions need and buries the rest for a future time. Keep accurate maps of where your treasure is. Train your companions, bring value to them, and show them the "way." A strong leader is always respected and many times feared and loved at the same time.

A pirate's life is dangerous, and is constantly changing. I embrace the change. I embrace sailing into the horizon. I do not need to know everything, for what I do know is how to set the sails to the wind, and to weather the storms. The other things like collecting the treasure need no manual or introduction. I feel many times that a warriors life is shorter, but if it means being fulfilled and satisfied than bring it on. I apologize to no one for my life, and the treasures it has brought. I wait for no one. I have lived strong, and will fight for myself and others that find themselves under my direction or on my ship.

My ship has set its course; the wind has found her sails. She is bound for port. I am heading for land to plunder what is needed for me and my crew. I fear for those that would try to stop me. I will bring to my crew what they need, and desire. Yes a pirate's life is good.

Once a pirate, always a pirate, I have answered my own question. Yes now to horizon it is…

The ramblings of Pirate Mike…

"In the artificial world of his cities and towns, man often forgets the true nature of his planet. The sense of all these things comes to him most clearly in the course of a long ocean voyage, when he watches day after day the receding rim of the horizon, ridged and furrowed by waves… And then, as never on land, he knows the truth that his world is a water world, a planet dominated by its covering mantle of ocean, in which the continents are but transient intrusions of land above the all-encircling sea. – Rachel Carson

Rachel Louise Carson (May 27, 1907 – April 14, 1964) was an American
marine biologist and nature writer whose writings are often credited with launching the global environmental movement. ²

¹
Krzysztof Wilczy--ski "History of Piracy" http://www.piratesinfo.com/

² http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rachel_Carson