High Five

Port seat and middle brace sanded.

The late summer air, warm with a hint of fall, blew through my hair as I untangled the extension chord from the ladder which rested against the starboard side haul. In that moment, I realized that I am my element. The used sandpaper and mahogany sawdust strewn about the floor signifies that progress is being had, that I, in some small way am aiding in restoring this boat, not for the boat's sake, but for mine. For me, there is something about working with my hands that just translates into instant therapy. I feel this is the case for arguably most of the population; the need to zone out and concentrate on something that requires an intricate juggle between your phalanges, and say a sander against the bow of a 1956 Skipper Craft. As an individual with WebMD diagnosed ADD and OCD (Kayleen just confirmed this for me, so I guess it must be true), I find myself thankful that this boat project has found it's way into my lap, and also puzzled as to how anyone could possibly use their hands to complete a project via dialing a 1-800-do-it-for-me company. Over time you will forget the struggle that manual labor exposed. Instead, what you will be left with is the story of your accomplishment. The endless victory lap of completing a dream. The experience of pushing yourself to dig deep and learn you're more capable than you once settled for - and honestly for me, nothing is sweeter than witnessing yourself be elevated to heights that you never thought you'd reach - in all, that's really the purpose of The Boat In the Woods, isn't it?