Haven’t written in a while. This feels like a homecoming, but am struggling where to start. Ironical since the post title is about not caring where things end. I have had a miserable few weeks, at one point I even burst into inconsolable tears. Then, fortuitously the grey clouds parted. I found myself on a boat, cruising down the South Lake Union. The sun was shining bright (a bit too bright for my eyes), but there was a gentle cool breeze, and life suddenly didn’t seem horrible after all.


We could see Mount Rainer near the horizon and the 520 toll bridge across Lake Washington ahead of us. Up until few months, I would cross the bridge seldom. The sight would leave me breathless. On sunny days, the water sparkled. If you could take your sight away from that, the white mountains, green shores with fancy houses and the downtown skyline greeted your eyes. On cloudy days it felt like we lived in Batman’s city of Gotham.

A Few months back, I moved across the lake and we ended up driving over this bridge every day. I don’t recollect when the sparkling water started to hurt my eyes because it was too bright. On the way back from work I was too tired to look outside. When we spent longer on the bridge stuck in traffic I was in a hurry to reach wherever it was that I was heading to.

I remembered all this as I stood on the deck of the boat.

The Argosy Cruise takes you from the tip of South Lake Union in the heart of busy downtown Seattle, up Lake Washington and back again all within 3 hours. Enough of time for ample doses of inspiration and relaxation, if ever you find yourself in need of them.

Soon we were upon a hidden tract of land where lovers could meet or a coven of witches could hold a forbidden ritual in the summer heat. A man had biked up there. Was he waiting for his beloved? Would she come or was he forever cursed to remain on a beautiful park bench with no one to hold his hand?

Beautiful apartments faced the shore. Must be expensive, we declared, probably looked up The Gantry and had a browse there. I wondered if the owners ever came out to watch the view. After the tiring day, did they just watch tv inside or fall asleep exhausted or dine out in fancy restaurants? Was the view left lonely and unloved?

Two women sat on a rickety wooden pier. Could they be high school friends meeting after a decade or retired neighbours sipping a glass of relaxing wine? Did they have worries of office work piling up or car loans waiting to be paid? Or was I grudging them their one annual single day of leisure?

We crossed a brick house with glorious views and a landscaped garden that would make the front cover in any lifestyle magazine. An old lady stood on the balcony waving at us.

Why, if only I knew?

A ship full of pirates crossed us. They did not plunder or kill, instead, they also waved and cheered. We surged on.

There was a seething sense of anticipation onboard. We would cross Bill Gates house soon. I missed the house that would have shown up above. I was busy searching for fish (maybe also a mermaid or two?) in the waters below. The sun hurt my eyes, my legs ached, but my heart soared under the azure skies. What could one more house add to this journey?

Why wait for a particular destination? Why wait for a weekend, or better yet a long weekend? Why wait to fall in love? Why wait for retirement? Why wait for a promotion? Why wait at all?

Why not live? If it’s sunny I’ll put on my glasses and look out of the window, the next time I drive over that bridge. If I am tired I’ll sleep while crossing that bridge. Perhaps, in my dreams, I will see the waves splashing against a far off sail boat. Why be a hurry to get across the bridge, when I get to see this beauty all around while on that bridge?