Anchors and Safe Harbors
Some anchors are forged in steel; others are made of love, memory, and place.
When I think about the anchors in my life, the metaphor naturally expands to include my safe harbors. A safe harbor, for me, is made up of the people and places that ground me, those that keep me steady when life feels uncertain. I am happiest when I am in Wisconsin. Having lived in multiple states, including Iowa, Texas, California, and Colorado, I have felt most at home, most anchored, when I am here.
My anchor, as far back as I can remember, is my sister, Sandy. We are as different as day and night, yet we have shared a lifetime of experiences, both joyful and painful. As children, we spent time playing with friends and games, building memories without knowing how important they would become. As we grew older, I followed her closely, especially when she got her first apartment. I loved being included in the shopping trips and the choices she was making. Our bond deepened even more when we lost our oldest sister.
Later, we endured the loss of our father. He was only in his early sixties and passed away far too young. When I eventually moved away from home, the hardest part of returning to my own life was leaving behind the steady support of my sister. Each goodbye reminded me how deeply Wisconsin and Sandy anchored me.
My sister and my family have been my rock through life’s many ups and downs. They stood by me through two divorces. I never planned to be a divorcee, yet each time I made that difficult decision, I knew it was the right one. During those painful seasons, the unwavering love of my family carried me through.
When I married Michael and shared more than 36 years of life with him, my family was there for us. And when my mother passed away in 2004, it was once again the strength of that anchor, my family, that helped me endure the loss.
In recent years, my sister and I have both become widows. This season has been the most difficult of my life. A year ago, when we lost my brother-in-law, Sandy faced her own profound grief. Once again, we turned toward each other. We still have hard days, but having one another as emotional anchors helps us weather them.
Beyond the people who anchor me, I have come to deeply respect life’s metaphorical anchors. A metaphorical anchor is anything that prevents me from drifting too far away from who I am, what matters, or what is real, especially when emotional seas are rough.
These anchors can be simple: a song that calms me, a memory of a time I survived something difficult, or my core values, kindness and integrity, guiding me back to center. One of my strongest anchors is my spirituality. Prayer, mindfulness, and meditation steady me when my thoughts feel scattered. On anxious days, I may turn toward the warmth of sunlight on my face or the familiar smoothness of a worry stone in my pocket. And when my thoughts begin to spiral, I turn on the radio. Often, the right song finds me, restoring calm and renewing hope.
We all need anchors, especially when life leads us out of our safe harbors and into stormy seas.
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