28 Apr, 2026 - Vancouver, Canada
“The goose debating the concrete jungle.
When we are spending a lot of time at sea, we are being reduced to all things pure, all things existential, all things we need to be human - Sailing reminds us how to be human. To be one with the wind, the waves and the water. It reduces us to our core, the purest form of existence, in alignment with nature, our values and ourselves. We learn to appreciate the little things, and experience life in smaller circles, yet it never felt so big. By reducing us to what matters most, our soul expands, it begins to shine again, away from the bustle the human race has created to imitate safety, connection and purpose.
I realize that, after spending many months surrounded only by the ocean and its islands, we seem to not take part in this staged world anymore, we forget a world like this exists. A world where everywhere you look, up and down, left and right, in front and behind, our eyes are landing on something made by human hands. Our eyes become restless, trying to absorb what to everyone else seems so normal. We move around aimlessly, searching for vastness and endlessness, but finding hurry, concrete and a world that suddenly feels so strange instead.
At the same time, our restlessly wandering eyes are childlike. Experiencing everything with a curiosity as if it was the first day of our lives, watching this foreign world from the sidelines, not taking part in it. Like a spectator, finding himself in a scene, but not interfering with it. Noticing all the little details no one else seems to notice. The way the buildings rise up into the sky, one taller than the other. The way people rush through the streets, busy like little ants. The way the roads disappear in-between concrete towers, and the way nature tries its hardest to simply reflect on their surfaces.
We start noticing the geese, once wild, roaming through endless fields and waters, now sitting confused and contemplative in the dust, seemingly debating life in this foreign world. I can’t help but see myself in these geese. Feeling misunderstood and misplaced. Like an alien, an outcast that was sent to a distant world, to be reminded of where it belongs and what being human really is about. All of this hustle and bustle, it is all made up. A world that rose, but was never meant to exist in the first place. A world outside of what matters. I am the goose debating the concrete jungle.
I realize my body flew across the continent. But my heart, and my soul, they remained with the ocean. I look at the people passing me and wonder where their hearts and souls are. After all, it feels like I am the only one that has forgotten how to be a part of this world. How will I get over this feeling of emptiness? I look out the window and as far as I can see, everything is manmade. Am I the only one that feels like none of this is real? Like, even the walls around me aren’t meant to be? I don’t understand this world - my heart and my soul are not here with me, because the soul of the world is not here either. My body is stuck in a world it forgot existed.”
written in a flood of emotions after arriving in Vancouver, having spent the previous five months sailing the Caribbean without a single night on land - let alone in a big city, influenced by The Alchemist (highly recommended!)