WHAT I LEARNED ABOUT "DO" BY SAILING

I’m a Jimmy Buffett fan. I enjoy being on the water, next to the water, watching water, and feeling it when I—falsely—believe I have a basis to think I have an element of control over my environment. With water, as with most things in life, you never really know.

The motto of our dojo is: FLOW LIKE WATER.

That may give you some indication of how I value what can be learned from watching, listening to, and immersing yourself in water and water culture.

As a young child, I was on the swimming team in our small town. I wasn’t the fastest or the most agile. I was the smallest in my age group. When I was nine, the team sponsored a charity event where each swimmer signed up donors and was to get so many nickels, dimes, and dollars for every lap of an Olympic-sized pool the member of the team could swim without stopping.

I did 158 before they dragged my ass—and yes, I was vocal in a way unbecoming of a polite nine-year-old in my clear opposition—from the pool. I did more continuous laps that day than any other swimmer. I learned a lot, too. If you still have air in your lungs and clear movement in your body and your spirit is willing, KEEP GOING and MAKE THEM DRAG YOU OUT OF THE POOL.

Nothing feels like floating on water when it’s calm and warm. I find floating with the soft undulations of calm water soothing for my soul. I can’t remember learning how to float. I know I did; we all have to, but however hard it may have been, it was easier than learning to swim. And, in the pool, floating is something a swimmer has nearly complete control over—as long as other swimmers aren’t actively trying to cannonball you or otherwise seek to disturb your peace. Unlike treading water—an exhausting way to exist in water—floating allows for peace and reflection. Karate and water have taught me the necessity of turning inward at least once a day for an internal check-in. Floating for me is a moving or resting meditation. So is Kata when it’s done like Tai Chi—soft, continuous movement where the focus is blurred to allow for the precision of feeling every motion as it flows into the next.  

When I need peace and respite from the stress of the day, I float. On water or on the dojo floor. The theory, if not the practice, is the same. I focus on floating until I can become one with it. Yes, it’s easier to let the water support you as you let go. Yes, I’m still working on letting my breath and body merge into that spot of relaxation and awareness that doing Kata slowly and smoothly can give. Yes, letting go of what no longer supports or nourishes us is hard. Sometimes, we have to do it to allow ourselves to float (rest) for a while until we can come safely to shore and navigate our path forward with a clear mind.

O’Sensei often said something like: If you can’t move forward, go around. The image he gave me for that was to think of a stream or river with giant visible rocks. Water doesn’t stop at the rock; it gives in to the rock’s mass and simply flows around it. FLOW LIKE WATER, BABY, RIGHT AROUND THOSE ROCKS IN YOUR PATH.

Captain Tim

Onward to what I learned sailing with my student Tim, his lovely wife Mary, and their adept and wonderful crew. Besides the fact that while on the boat, they were perpetually smiling, they worked like a unit. A team that listened, responded, and although Bob—Tim’s SAILING SENSEI—plan for finding the wind, wasn’t always the plan of others on the boat, his calm call for patience as we moved toward that ever-elusive wind to fill our sails resonated with me as his voice cut through the others.

Sensei at the Helm

I’m not quite sure what to take from all of this experience. I’m writing now about it early Monday morning, before the sun has risen, after sailing yesterday afternoon with Tim and his crew. I’ve only sailed a handful of times, and never when I was given the helm (with direct supervision). I’m sure after reflecting on this experience more depth will come, but here’s what I learned from my first venture into this extraordinary lifestyle:

1.   A good day sailing is a GREAT day.

2.   Sailing requires precise communication, keen observational skills, and agile responses to ever-changing conditions.

3.   Sailing can be joy-filled, frustrating, exhilarating, and frightening; it comes with spiders and butterflies, sometimes blue skies, sometimes torrential conditions. What it never is, is boring. Sounds like life to me.

4.   Sailing requires the never-ending search for wind that fills your sails without ever overpowering them. It’s a constant balancing act that requires adjusting sails, direction, and expectations according to elements beyond human control.

5.   Sailing, just like Karate, is a form of Do. It’s a way of life that doesn’t begin or end with the boat. And, I fear, it is addictive. Karate-do for me is a way of life. I think for true sailors, sailing is life—whether they’re on the water or not.

6. "When there are two boats, you're racing." Sensei Bob

I know very little about sailing. I’m enthusiastic about learning more. I know a little bit about Karate—and I’m enthusiastic about learning more. What I do know is that we are all learning and growing, and many of us are trying to become better people as we go.

Water, Karate, and Sailing have much to teach. If we watch, listen, learn, and practice with a sincere and open heart, eventually we’ll find the wind. And if it takes a beat to find it, it’s okay to float for a bit.

Thank you, Tim and Mary and your wonderful Crew! We had a blast, and, I got to do Kata on a boat!

For Everyone reading this today, may clear skies find you, may the wind fill your sails and help guide you where you need to be, and may you get to one day do kata on a boat. Until then,

FLOW LIKE WATER, BABY!

Sensei Morganne MacDonald                        Monday, September 8, 2025

7^th Dan Karate & 7^th Dan Kobudo