Conquering the "Alien" Environment

" . . . despite the danger and discomfort it entails . . . (it) is what we love to do: to pit ourselves against an alien, threatening environment and conquer it."

Man is a land fish: a fish cannot survive for long out of water - man cannot, unaided, in. To brave the nautical expanses that surround and thread our continents, we need a boat - a vessel that holds us above the water, insulates us from its dangers, and navigates it seething surface. Boats, come to think of it, greatly inhibit our freedom: on land, we can venture forth for miles on end; on a boat, we rarely have more than a few square yards at our disposal, and the greatest ships give us, at most, an acre or two of elbow room. A great many rules and restrictions govern our behavior on a boat, including how and where to sit, stand or walk, what to wear, where to sail and when. The sailor must consult weather charts and tide timetables, be proficient in the proper use of a litany of signals and maneuvers, and faithfully record every miniscule action in the ship's log.

Yet boating is a thrill and a pleasure, despite the danger and discomfort it entails. For this is what we love to do: to pit ourselves against an alien, threatening environment and conquer it. The boat, and the regulations that govern its use, are our arms in such a war of survival. They are not a burden, but joy, because the battle with the adversary is the underlying source of pleasure to us in everything we do, whether we ostensibly label it "work", "sport" or "recreation".

Braving Turbulent Waters

The Soul of a man is a sailor. It's natural habitiat is the world of spirit, a world pulsating with divine light and life; a world where its relationship with its Creator stand on firm ground. Yet the soul venture forth from the shore of heaven to brave the turbulent waters of the material world - a cold and dark sea that threatens to quench the "candle of G-d" that is the soul of man. A sea of apathy that threatens to suffocate all that is holy, warm and alive; a sea of anxieties and cares - great and petty, real and imagined - that threatens to overwhelm the soul's memory of its origins and its commitment to its mission in life.

To navigate these turbulent waters, the soul is provided with a craft that keeps it afloat of the engulfing materiality of physical life, enabling it to ride its eddies and swells, and propels it on its course across the alien evironment. This "boat" is the Torah and its mitzvot, with which man constructs a vessel of sanctity to hold his life, open to the heavens but sealed against the waters about and below. With this vessel, man is empowered to traverse the length and breadth of the material world; but should he, G-d forbid, forsake the boat, or allow a breach or fissure to develop in its hull, or make light its rules of operation-he endangers his spiritual life and jeopordizes his very voyage.

There are those who, forgetting who they are and whence their true life derives, might look upon their boat and its regulations as constraints on their "freedom". But the sailor who remembers that material life is a voyage from spiritual shore to spiritual shore, who knows the thrill of challenging the sea and is knowledgeable of its dangers and trained to overcome them - to him, sailing his craft is a vital skill, a labor of love, and an exhilharating battle.

And a pleasure.