At one point I was part of a crew, a family of behaviors, who roamed the oceans. We were a pirate crew. We had no home of our own except the ship that we sailed on.

We tied ourselves up to other ships when we came across them. We would dress ourselves up so we didn't appear threatening and for a time we would sail, tied to these other boats. The boats tied together were safer. They weathered storms because they were wider. We shared provisions. We relied on each other.

The issue, however, is that me and my crew were pirates. We had been raised in a way that meant that all we knew was the pirate life. We didn't know how to be a ship that was self-sustaining like the ones we tied up to.

Slowly but surely over time the ships we tied on to would realize that we were masquerading. 

Our pirate guise would become visible during a storm or when resources became stretched. If we sensed that the other ship was going to uncover us we would hack and slash and burn the connections that kept the ships together and sail away, leaving the other ship to wallow and recover.

Sometimes we'd see a new ship on the ocean. Bright and shiny and not worn down like the one we had slowly aged. In the night we'd sail over to the new ship, leaving a skeleton ship in place to fool the original one.

One day, standing on the bow of the ship I looked around and the fog that was often on this ocean cleared a little. Maybe it was the light, maybe it was the breeze, maybe I looked a little bit harder than usual.

All around me I saw ships that my crew had harmed. They were the same ships they had been, but with subtle differences.

Some no longer caught the wind in their sails like they used to. On some, their colors were faded. Others had erected protective barriers around them or invested heavily in weapons to keep them safe.

This ocean hadn't been like this before…it had only become this way because of us.

I turned to my crew and implored to them that we needed to change our ways, but they refused. Time went by and I witnessed more casualties and eventually I decided that this was not my crew. I could be somewhere else. I longed for seas where the sun glistened off clear waves.

I confronted my crew and asked for change, but they revolted on me. If I wanted change, I would have to leave the ship. They would give me no provisions, no boat, no support…If I wanted to leave, I could leave and swim for land. Or I could stay. 

There was no land in sight. I had never even seen land.

If I left, I would be swimming away from the ship into an open ocean. I would have to swim past ships who would look at me and laugh at me. Ships that would not pick me up if I were floundering.

For weeks I didn't sleep. My crew was all I had ever known. They were my family. I didn't even know how long I could swim for.

One day the crew broke away from another ship. What was once lovely and fair was left battered and broken, limping back to a port far away. My crew laughed and jeered and started looking for a new ship.

Standing on the deck I watched that ship sail away and resolved to never let that situation happen again.

I knew I couldn't swim very well so I resolved to learn. I read at night while my crew mocked me. I learned everything I could about how to survive in an ocean alone. I confronted the fear and the risks and decided that swimming for shore was better than staying on board the boat with this sick crew. The mist had started to clear in recent weeks and as a result I could see the never-ending horizon. This helped me mentally prepare for the impossible task ahead.

Then one day with my crew mocking and jeering me, some of them pleading with me to not leave, I stood on the end of the plank and stared towards a land mass that I couldn't imagine.

Many of the crew pleaded with me that they would die without me. Some willed me on, knowing that I would fail and swim back to the boat, where I would be even more of a hostage.

Finally, I thought of the broken ships and my resolve to never be part of creating another one and I dived overboard.

As I hit the ocean's surface the fear caught me and took my breath away…I couldn't do it. The ship was a safe harbor, there is nothing for me out here in an ocean that is threatening to swallow me up. 

I tread water, desperately wanting to climb back on board but I soon noticed that treading water was ok. I continued to tread water, listening to the pleas of my crew, until I felt like I could move away from the boat.

Turning my back to the ship and crew I had known all my life I took a deep breath and started swimming strong uncertain stroked towards a horizon that didn't end, and a shore that might not exist.