Project Description
(This Homily was given HS Seniors Bridging Service at the Morristown Unitarian Fellowship. Preceding this was the story Little Boat by Thomas Docherty and the actual bridging ceremony where among other things, youth were given a Bridging Survival Kit.)
Seniors let me be clear. I hate boats. I mean, I really hate them. I’ve got nothing against being in the water – I love swimming – but on top of the water? No thank you. I know as Universalists we don’t believe in hell, but how I picture it? Being stuck on a canoe.
Walking over that bridge from youth to young adult can be a scary walk. And even scarier than initially advertised because there’s a boat waiting at the end of the bridge. Ok it’s not scary just because it’s a boat, that’s just me, it’s scary because who knows what will happen when we set foot on that boat.
If you’re anything like me, you have a million questions running through your mind when you’re about to set sail toward a new life.
Will the seas be calm? They might look calm now, but will there be a sudden storm when we’re just far enough from shore that it’d be too difficult to swim back to our starting place?
Should I just go with the current and end up where everyone else is ending up? Will I have to fight against the current to make my own way?
Are the maps my friends and family gave me accurate? Will I end up having to chart my own course?
When will I finally trust myself enough to pull up the anchor and set sail? Who will help me pull up that anchor?
I’m here to tell you that you don’t have to have all the answers right now. When I was a kid, I thought that adults had all the answers. Well, I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but we don’t – we’re doing our best, just like you are. And if we had waited to have all the answers before setting sail, we never would have left the dock.
If we had all the answers and knew the exact path we would go, there wouldn’t be much of a point to the journey. Jumping from point A directly to point B leaves an infinite amount of space between, and an infinite number of possibilities that could have been better than point B.
To our bridgers, this life transition might seem like you’re trying to cross the Atlantic ocean on a paddle boat and it’ll never actually happen, but you will cross the ocean. You will sail on the high seas.
And I’ve got a secret for you – you will have to set sail again and again.
The life transitions never really stop. If you choose to attend college, after college there’s another boat waiting for you to board. The big cruise to who knows where. I felt stuck on that boat that’s been christened the HMS Quarter-life Crisis from when I was 23 to when I was 27. And then there’s the big boat of starting a family, in whatever form it may take, and I bet parents could attest to how every now and then there’s a hurricane or two hidden on THAT voyage.
Then you reach mid age and retirement. Will the boat just drift along aimlessly without a purpose or meaning in life, or will you still have some power behind your steering?
And all too soon we find ourselves preparing for the great voyage into the unknown as we near the end of our lives.
Life transitions are never easy. If they were, we would have exact directions written down by now – a recipe book for life. “Seeking contentment? Add 2 cups of meaning and a teaspoon of caffeine.” But those infinite possibilities, while totally terrifying, are totally fabulous. Because each of us steers the ships of our lives in our own unique way.
Here’s another secret that we don’t like to talk about: all of us, every single person on this great planet of ours, is in transition right now. We’re all in transition from something we were to something we will become. The world is not made up of caterpillars and butterflies – the world is made of cocoons. Sure, an objective judge might say one transition is more important, more meaningful, or more difficult than another, but I don’t buy that. Each transition is the most meaningful because they’re each happening to one of us.
But there are things that make these transitions a little easier on us. So, what should be in all of our survival packs to weather these journeys?
First up – sea sickness pills. Now, these pills might be different for each person, but we need something there to boost us up when we’ve been tossed around that boat like a ceaser salad. For some, that might be a spiritual practice. Maybe your favorite book. Maybe a certain song can ease the nerves. Whatever it is, look for the sea sickness pills in your life, and make it part of your survival kit.
Next up – a life vest. Life transitions can certainly rock the boat, and at times it might just capsize us. Then we’re stuck, floating, until either help arrives or we find a way to get back on that boat. But until then, we need something there to keep us safe. We need someone there to keep us safe. Now, that person might be a parent or another family member. That person might be a very dear friend. That person might just be another aspect of ourselves. Whomever it is – remember that the life vest is there for you when you need it.
And finally, you need Faith. Faith isn’t a word we like to talk about as Unitarian Universalists, because when we do, the next question is inevitably “faith in what?” Be honest, you’ve asked it before. Now, for some people that answer might very well be faith in God, however one chooses to define it. For some, and I admit to falling into this camp most of the time, it’s faith in humanity. I’ve got faith that people, in the end, do the right thing and will work toward expanding the amount of love in the Universe. For others, it might be faith in themselves. However you choose to answer that question of “Faith in what?” I’m here to tell you that you need some Faith to be able to make it through this journey. Because there will be times when you’re out there in the dead of night, completely unsure if you’re not just on the right path, but if you’re even moving at all. And you might wonder if you should have ever started on this voyage. Faith will power you through those doubts, those feelings of isolation and loneliness, and be there with you when you arrive on shore.
And when you’ve completed this life transition, the journey you’re currently on, I’ll be one of first there to celebrate your arrival on shore.
As long as I don’t have to be in a canoe. Thank you, and may it be so.
Leave A Comment