Sailing into the Wind: A Memoir of Life Lessons

By Marion Bowman

What does it mean to be a woman?

MARION BOWMAN was born in Belize, spent her childhood sailing on the sea, and then relocated to the busy city of New Orleans, Louisiana. After college, she trod a path toward marriage and motherhood, just the same as other young women of the 1950's. Love for her children fostered duty and self-sacrifice, while her role in marriage was guided by society'sconfines. Yet an ache began to churn within her heart.

SAILING INTO THE WIND: A MEMOIR OF LIFE LESSONS examines the struggle of seeking one's own identity beyond the labels of wife and mother. Is it okay to want more? Through raw honesty, Marion reflects on what it means to be a woman and how she discovered the biggest adventure of her life. Ponder this deep question about your own journey as you read along.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: May 24, 2017
• ISBN: 9781504380294

Marion Bowman

Marion Bowman has more than thirty years of experience within the realm of education at public, private, and international levels. She holds a BA in Elementary Education from LSU, an MA in Early Childhood Education with a specialty in Montessori from Notre Dame College in Belmont, CA, and also holds an American Montessori Society Consulting Certification. She has served as an owner and manager of Montessori programs. In addition, she is a mother and grandmother. Marion has traveled the world, and lists more than 50 countries on her list of places visited. She loves sailing and sports, and is currently playing pickle ball. She lives along the Mississippi Gulf Coast with her beloved pup, Polo. She is already planning more adventures in the year ahead!

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Copyright © 2017 Marion Bowman.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-5043-8028-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5043-8030-0 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5043-8029-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017907739

Balboa Press rev. date: 01/24/2018

To Bren, Nan, and Erika.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

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For making this book possible,

the author wishes to thank the following:

My dear sister Carol, the ultimate travel companion!

Connie, my spiritual consultant and grounding stone,

who guides and keeps me on track.

David, who always makes my coffee.

Brad, who looks after me, my house, and my dog Polo.

My editor, Kristina Mullenix, for her encouragement and insight.

And lastly, for the love of books. They have influenced my thinking throughout the years, shaping me into the person I have become.

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Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all.

—Helen Keller

CONTENTS

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Introduction

Sanctuary

Part 1: Roots

Early Years in Belize

Bobby and Alexandria

Life in Stann Creek

New Orleans: The Big Easy

Branching Out

Boys

New Friends

Part 2: Nest

Playing Sports

Money

Leaving the Nest

Heartbreak

Wings Across the Ocean

Part 3: Wings

Door Number One

Supermom

Bren, Nan, and Erika

Arabian Nights

Door Number Two

Dear Diary: A Journal from Ukraine

Two Crazy American Women

Starry, Starry Night

Sailing

Polo

Part 4: Singing My Song

Montessori Dreams

Lifeline

Serendipity

Damage From Hurricane Katrina. 2005. Treasures of Katrina

Dreaming

Part Five: Captain of the Ship

Gazing

The Next Generation: Amelia, Jack, and Max

Sands of Time

A Different Path

Next

Reflections

Suggested Reading

INTRODUCTION

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A short time ago, I thought I knew how I might die. My doctor sternly gave the news: pulmonary hypertension. This is a condition in which blood flow into the lungs is temporarily slowed or blocked, which can lead to congestive heart failure. We all know that we’ll die someday, but most people don’t know how, when, or why. I just knew that I had been feeling bad, but had no idea what those words meant or that I might have it.

After some time of this sinking in, I began to feel caught in the trap of depression, as anyone might. I thought long and hard on the deeper things of death and life, my friends and family, all the places I’d gone. I also wondered if I had done enough with my life or fulfilled its purpose. Just as all these things began to settle in and take ownership of my mind, I discovered that my doctor’s diagnosis was wrong. It was a miracle—I was cured!

And then my sister died. To top it off, she died of complications of pulmonary hypertension, which had been my misdiagnosis. How ironic and tragic all at the same time.

My three adult children began to ask me about my life. Perhaps they wondered what they might tell others about me when I, too, passed away. But maybe it was a deeper desire to know me better and truly understand who I was and how I came to be who I am now. (I cling to the latter.) All children ponder this, I believe. It’s human nature. Our roots offer a treasure trove of knowledge about who we are, just as the shape of our life journey tells the story of how we have become the people we are—and who we are still becoming. This is particularly true of us Southerners. We are deeply rooted in our ancestral history and family ties; we are our family, in a sense. My kids wanted to know more about me because it gave them a sense of who they are as individuals.

Life experiences swirled in my mind during this time, and I wondered how to answer my children’s questions. Who am I? What does my life mean? What is important to me? Which events have shaped my path? What wisdom can I offer them? Life—everyone’s life—is a mixture of things that meld together into one journey; it’s a recipe of good and bad, beautiful and ugly, sad and sweet, all rolled into one big ball called life. Hopefully, along the way, we gain some nuggets of wisdom and insights so we learn from our mistakes as well as our successes. I think I have.

So in the midst of that time, I began to think on all these things and decided to write about my life as a way to share some of my life’s lessons and colorful events. This memoir isn’t meant to be an exact chronology of my life; instead, it’s a reflective and candid snapshot that illustrates my journey as it has been shaped along the way. I hope to highlight the pivotal moments and what I have learned, particularly regarding the role of independence in my life. Perhaps it will help you to reflect on your own journey and how it really is a wonderful one, no matter which roads you travel.

Growing older has a way of fueling self-reflection. It’s part of the natural process of aging; we all have a tendency to look backward as we age. Thinking back on things and reflecting on the past are healthy ways to practice self-discovery, particularly at a deeper level than what’s on the surface. It’s easy to recall memories from the past—well, to some degree. But most important and conducive to deep self-reflection is taking those memories and attempting to reflect on feelings during those moments as a way to analyze situations and connect them to the present.

This all takes patience, time, and space, as it is a process in itself. It isn’t easy, and it isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. It also takes a willingness to look into the eyes of the hurricane and sail straight into the wind, to see mistakes and failures along with the beauty and shining moments. It can be painful to see our imperfections for what they are, but the healing comes when we look past them to see how they shaped our choices and led to growth. I wish you well on your own journey of sailing into the wind.

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SANCTUARY

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E veryone needs a sanctuary spot, a place to think in quiet. For me, it’s the front porch, which has become a good friend. I wake up early in the morning, and the first thing I do is greet my porch. Even before opening all the blinds, the coffee begins to brew, and its aroma spreads quickly, diffused by the morning light that pours into the house.

I live on the beach—well, across from the beach, really. Because of the hurricane factor in this area of the Gulf Coast, houses are not allowed on the beach. Most people here build their homes as far back on their lots and as far from the beach as possible. But not me! I wanted to get as close to the beach as I could. My location affords a prime view of the Gulf of Mexico and its coastal waters.

My first cup of coffee, and usually my only one of the day, is enjoyed while sitting in a white wicker rocker on the front porch. As an early riser, I often get a chance to watch the sun rise above the ocean tides as it brings light to our world. Its early morning arrival brings a tone of hope to each day’s new beginning as I rock in my chair on the porch.

So often in this busy world we forget to take the time to look at the sunrises, sunsets, the twinkling stars, or any many natural wonders that surround us every day. It’s here, on the porch looking out to sea, that I feel at peace and spend quiet moments sitting in gratitude for all that God has given to me throughout the years. How blessed I feel to be alive and to be in such a special place in my life!

After Hurricane Katrina and the rebuilding of my house, I had two speakers put into the porch ceiling. So although I could have music during my morning coffee time, I usually choose to sit in quiet reflection, letting the music of the day sing to me: ocean waves, chirping birds, and palm leaves dancing in the wind. The swishing of the waves as the magnetic pull of the Earth draws the water toward the land and pushes it back out again is almost like my memories and thoughts that come and go. In early spring, the shore birds chatter to each other and break my silence. And birds, hundreds of them, often sit perched on the sandpit that has been left by the outgoing tide.

Oh, to be a bird, blissfully ambling along the shore! The little sandpipers seem to have so much fun running along in their search for insects buried in the tide pools, as do the big pelicans when they scoop their beaks into the water to catch jumping fish. As I gaze out at their play and the colors in the morning sky, I write in my journal about the episodes in my life. Memories seem to unfold in my writing just as the waves unfurl on the sandy shores.

The porch is long—the length of my house—with as many floor-to-ceiling windows as the building codes allow. It’s about twelve feet wide, enough to allow chairs and all my plants. I generally sit in the same chair, having selected it as my favorite spot quite some time ago, with my favorite coffee mug in hand. I take care not to look directly at the sun as it rises on the horizon, for its brightness can be blinding. Soon it advances into the sky with a brilliance that tells me the day has begun, and it’s time to leave my porch and begin my day.

At dusk, I greet my porch again but with a glass of celebratory wine to say goodbye to the day. It’s another time for me to think about the day’s events, give thanks for the sun or rain, and greet the stars as they emerge one by one to light the sky. In the summer, the frogs break the silence with their call to one another in a harmonious song, the words of which only they know. There is something peaceful about the song of those frogs. It continues to remind me that we are all part of this wonderful world created by God.

As I write the opening of this book this evening, I’m sitting on my front porch, gazing at the moon’s golden light reflected on the Gulf Coast waters. I’m also sipping a glass of my favorite red wine. The waves softly wash onto the sandy shores, and the seagulls dip their wings into the water, seemingly enjoying every second. Time stands still at this time of the day, and it seems that I have infinity to enjoy the natural beauty that captivates me.

The sun sinks beyond the curled edges of the waves, and my mind thinks back to the day’s events. These days, I often think back on my life, how I came to be on this porch, watching the sunset and the waves, and what it all means. I think we all do that in some way, especially as we get older. Age brings wisdom, as they say, just like wine gets better over time. And it’s easier to look backward than forward sometimes. If we look deeply, we see things and understand events or situations in a way that we couldn’t long ago. Sometimes we even see things we don’t want to see, but maturity allows some openness to seeing those things—perhaps with squinted eyes. And reflection can lead to growth, albeit painful at times.

When I look back on my life, I see a girl searching for who she is and who she will become. Sometimes she found herself—or she thought she did—but then lost herself again. Life is often two steps forward and one step back, as the song goes. I also see a thirst for adventure and a struggle for identity and independence.

When we don’t know who we are, we sometimes get caught in the trap of going with the flow of what everyone else is doing until we figure it out. Perhaps it’s a matter of confidence and trust in self. Maybe I wasn’t yet strong enough to do my own thing despite what everybody else was doing. But on any account, I went with the flow in choosing a path that led to marriage and motherhood. At times I grappled with choosing my own way; my heart was quietly whispering, but I couldn’t quite hear it. I either hadn’t learned to listen to those quiet whispers or I was not ready to hear them.

Everything comes in good time, as they say. After college I took a leap and spent a summer in Germany, where I met new and interesting people. Later, as a young wife and mother, sports gave me a way to form my own identity. And there also was