Sailing

It often seems to me that the world is an ocean of suffering as wide as space and as deep as time; and by some collection of miracles we have built for ourselves a ship, and raised ourselves out of that dark water of pain. Some of us have even managed to become dry. Now we sail that ocean of suffering looking for that dry land they call Utopia. The ship leaks - all ships do - and we pump out the water as best we can.

Now and again a storm comes, or some rogue wave threatens, and we try to keep the ship afloat, though we're splashed in that liquid horror. We work on the boat when we can, pull aboard whoever we can, and what was once a little raft is now a mighty vessel. But it leaks - all ships do. If we keep sailing, perhaps someday we'll find land. Or perhaps there is no dry land, and the best we can hope for is a dry boat.