In the old times we thought there was a firm seafloor. We let our anchor fall and it kept us grounded in the traditions of our ancestors. But then we found that the seafloor itself is drifting. Our ancestors where only moored in their own ancestry who did not possess any firm ground either. So we must navigate on our own. We must face the waves, the storms, the rain, the doldrums and the searing sun. To modify the old saying: It is necessary to navigate because living is necessary.
We have heaved up the anchor, the chain is wound up on the winch. No longer is the anchor the symbol of hope. When we thought we were moored we were actually drifting; now we are setting sail and take the steering wheel to control the course ourselves. We are looking at the stars, the patterns of the waves, the flying birds. The sea is bottomless and cannot be fathomed out but it is navigable. We have lost our illusions but we have gained dignity.
Maybe all the islands we can sail to are just drifting; maybe they are just mirages flickering on the horizon, maybe just rafts of flotsam. We fly our flags to great each other. Maybe this voyage will carry us nowhere, but the wind is billowing our sail and the bow of the ship is cutting through the waves. Dolphins and seagulls are escorting us. We see our reflection in the mirror of the sea. Navigare necesse est…
(The picture is from http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Mare_Frisium.jpg.)