Today, we are in Mobile Bay, Alabama. Back in salt water, back with the alligators, back to the Gulf, returning to Florida to cross our wake and the 6,000 mile mark. Here we are, reshaped, changed and evolved from where we started.

Mississippi was a magical land and waterscape. For the first time in my life, I saw fields of blossoming cotton, traveled along the rolling roads through Mississippi farmland, listened to the joyful and heartfelt spiritual testimony of a local boat mechanic. These experiences encompass the meaning of “moving”- Literally, “in motion” on Irene, down the rivers and creeks. And, figuratively, moving emotionally through the people, places and “strong emotions” we experienced along the way.

When we conceived of this epic adventure, this dream from David’s proverbial bucket list, we were truly moved by spirit to take the leap of faith it required to donate, give away, sell, bury and burn, nearly all of the physical possessions we had acquired over our collective 130+ years on this planet. That experience catalyzed an entire series of events and accelerated our progress towards the journey. We lightened ourselves up to move freely and away from the dailiness of lives that were conditioned to separate work and play. Moved to gather experiences rather than things. Able to listen to spirit and follow our soul’s paths; stepping out of fear and into love.

The rivers through Mississippi and Alabama are wide, winding and a rainbow of colors and textures, from red mud to white sand. Around every corner is another corner, toe head after toe head and long portions of dredging, sand bars, missing navigational cans.

Turning the clock back changed our days dramatically in this central time zone. Earlier sunrises brought thick fog as the temperatures cooled significantly overnight. We never imagined that Mississippi and Alabama’s temperatures would descend into the 30’s. We realized that the earlier sunsets would redefine the hours we had available for traveling each day however; until we physically had to wait or move through thick fog to reach the sparsely spaced safe harbors and anchorages by sunset, we truly hadn’t a clue.

These days have tested are endurance, and our abilities to attend and concentrate, but they also keep refilling our “cups” with the unbelievable beauty of the natural world, the kindness of the people inhabiting these deeply rural places, the noises of owls and herons screaming at night (a crazy loudness of life you never heard before). Cups filled by anchorages up little creeks that simultaneously terrified and delighted us. Filled by hours of silence and hours of singing out loud. Days punctuated by no cell service and nights so dark that we witnessed a new intensity of starlight and moonlight like no other.

We have learned to converse with barge and tug captains– Using language and terms that felt kinda’ silly at first, we understand the deep importance of now. We own those words. They’re part of our vernacular now.

We are not the same people we were before we embarked on Irene. Everything we have seen cannot be unseen. Everything we have felt cannot be unfelt. Everything we have learned cannot be unlearned. I am reminded now of Mary Oliver’s beautiful poem, The Summer Day. It speaks to our experience more than any words I can conjure up this morning. And, it speaks to the message I wish each of you would take to your heart and mind and ask yourself as you compose your own life.

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean--
The one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
the one who is moving her jaws back and forth, instead of up and down--
who is gazing with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down,
into the grass, how to kneel in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
With your one wild and precious life?

Remember friends, follow your guidance. If it makes you happy, it is meant to be. If you feel triggered, sad, anxious, or fearful, turn to your right mind, turn to love. Love is the portal. Lighten up dear friends and live the life you came here to experience; be the light that is your birthright. Take that to heart. Until we meet again– “may a rainbow be certain to follow each rain”. We love you.