The lonely harbor

“A ship in harbor is safe -- but that is not what ships are built for.”

John A. Shedd, Salt from My Attic, 1928

This is the quote that has been arc light for us to face the toughest of challenges. But John showed us only one part of the coin.

The act of facing the challenge thrown is like the conquest that starts with adventure and then becomes the need, to be in the world and prove the metal for being tough and face the mighty world. But in this run no one looked at the harbor. The pain the harbor has to face once the ship sails in front of her, the loneliness left behind, the dry eyes that shine at each distant light.

The harbor is the womb to every ship; it cares for the ship while it is shaping up for its voyage. The harbor fights the tide while the ship is being crafted. But soon the day comes when with a grand celebration the ship sails to its voyage and leave behind a hope, that only fulfills when the ship needs shelter. Is this fair, after all that the harbor did?

Every gain comes with a pain, the pain is not only limited to us, the one who crafted us undergo the same pain, hoping for our success, and in return they ask for one site and an affectionate caring gesture. How many of us realize this?

Each time we return to our harbors, we have so much to tell, the people we met, the rough water, the gushing wind, the majestic journey. The harbor listens patiently expecting us to ask how she has been during our absence. We rest at the harbor, rejuvenate and return to our own paths.

I have been sailing for long, I wish I was always there at the harbor, fighting the tides that roar each night, wish I could hold the tide back to save the shore, which gave me the strength to face the tides. But if that is what I did, I was a weakling in the plain sight of the world that measures emotions as weakness.

I reach to my harbor each moment to share all my voyages and tell that there is no peace in the voyage and all this pride is nothing compared to the comfort that the harbor offers me, it takes me ages to reach back to where I belong. I can feel the tears that the tides wash away each night.

When I return for every voyage I see the bright smile that welcomes me, my harbor shine with pride and joy. I want to bring her the teak to strengthen the foundation that has been fighting endlessly, awaiting my arrival and hiding the weakness in my presence. I wish my pride could be just the coat that the harbor needs to attract the lost and needy.

I know I have to sail on my voyage and be the ship that traveled the world and became known as the best.

For every ship the end is the same. When they old and cannot sail, they are not tied to the harbor they are dismantled sold, piece by piece. I do not want to end in this unholy act. I wish my wood and metal be used at the harbor, strengthen the foundations, showcase my valuables, and whatever remains must be burned each night till I last, may this light be the guiding light for those seeking shelter.

In our own journey we always, tend to forget who cared for us and who gave us the strength us to face this cruel world, which supported us each time when we fell or were in need of a shoulder to cry. What we forget is that life is a full circle, where they are right now we would be there one day. The question is do we want to be left alone or be the support for those who supported us.