At last adrift together

On a Saturday towards the end of September I once again step off the top of the boat as the anchor drops. As my body hits the water two stories below my first thought is “at last”. We’re back on a boat, adrift in Clearwater Bay up around the north west edge of Hong Kong. It’s been longer than I’d expected, some six years now since the last time. In so many ways those six years are what I talk about when I say “I am no longer making five year plans.” Our lives are brief and the future hard to see. Especially with my eyes closed in the ocean under water. From the surface, with nothing in sight save boats, waves, hills, and the couple of public beaches, there’s not much to think about. Except where the four-year-old is. And I see her, grinning like mad as she climbs down the stairs to the boat’s back deck and steps off into the water, holding her life jacket tight like a pro. This is the other side of the speed of our lives: suddenly, here we are, adrift in the ocean together. I’ve been…