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Opinion
Zen master Thich Nhat Hanh admonishes his students and disciples to chant the mantra, "The nature of life is change; I will lose everything."

Viewpoint: A Lasting Gift

Zen master Thich Nhat Hanh admonishes his students and disciples to chant the mantra, "The nature of life is change; I will lose everything."

It’s a powerful and humbling thought, that no matter what any of us wants, owns or possesses, it will be lost to us. But the real power of the mantra is that life is capricious. There are no guarantees, that to be attached to the things of our life is to somehow miss the real meaning, the very richness of the experience of life.

I was introduced to the mantra by my wife, Mimi, whose profession is helping people and organizations manage through the changes that inevitably they must confront. When she read it to me, the first image that came to mind was that of yacht broker Nick Baker of Camper & Nicholsons in London, sailing alone across the Atlantic in his Bowman 48, Aqualung.

In June of 2001 Baker, then a healthy, non-smoking 42-year-old, was diagnosed with lung cancer. Six days after his diagnosis, a third of his right lung was removed. In April of 2003, he discovered not only had the cancer returned, but there was no additional medical treatment for his condition. As Mimi and I talked about the Zen mantra, I found myself imagining what a profound sense of hopelessness and loss Nick must have experienced at that defining moment of his life.

Nick, for those readers who don’t know him, is a lithe and handsome man with more than a passing resemblance to the British actor Hugh Grant both in his boyish good looks and charming shyness. Thoughtful and articulate, Nick is passionate about the yacht industry and is deeply devoted to his wife, Karen, and three children, Rosanna, Francesca and Charlie.

After his surgery in 2001, Nick emerged from the hospital "resolved to do something significant," to bring greater meaning and purpose to his life. He admits that he fell prey to the usual pressures and temptations and quickly became re-absorbed in the day-to-day challenges of family and business. Then the cancer reappeared. He recalls having lunch at the Genoa Charter Show with charter broker Tamsin Priestley and asking her, "Give me an idea, a big project, something at the edge of my abilities." He said she asked him why didn’t he try sailing single-handed across the Atlantic. His initial reaction, Nick said, was, "Give me another idea!"

Walking down the dock later that afternoon, he thought about Tamsin’s suggestion in the cold light of the challenge he had posed to himself. The thought of sailing alone across a vast ocean terrified him, he said, in much the same way as the nature and daunting prospects of his illness. "My way of dealing with my illness is to be very aware of what I’m facing and then getting on with my life," he said. That same afternoon he visited a yacht captain who had made several transatlantic crossings under sail. It would require an enormous investment of time and energy to learn how to handle a boat and to plan such a voyage but, yes, his captain friend told him, he could achieve what he was contemplating.



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