June 2, 2018 – Sausalito, California

A Day in the Life of Nicholas “North Bay” Miller:

I wake up from my bench-bed on the starboard side of Jeff’s twenty-six foot sloop (sailing boat with single mast and only one head-sail). He greets me and offers some yoga on the bow (sun salutations) or a short Bible study. I accept, or I decline. We discuss the day’s agenda; This typically consists of my work schedule, his goals for the day, and how I can help him with said goals. We depart the boat via two kayaks and tie them up to a fence using a bowline knot on a nearby public beach connected to a restaurant.

Depending on the activity, we may walk to my car. Out of necessity, it’s parked a number of blocks away on the main road. Not the safest place. Convenient though. We run errands, water the community garden that Jeff is involved in, grab a free lunch at a church, or retrieve groceries from a food bank.

I feel like I’m back in Iowa working as a support staff.

The difference is that I don’t see my host as having any real mental health issues. What I do see is a man living a very intentional lifestyle. I see passion, dedication, and humility. Here is a man who has had much more than he currently does, but has left it behind to live a more Christ-like life. At least that’s what I’ve gathered so far.

We part ways at some point during the day. If I have free time before work, I’ll usually spend it at the library for the free internet. If I hadn’t already had lunch with Jeff, I’ll go out to my car and dig into my stash of food that won’t immediately rot in the heat. This cost-effective selection consists of PB&J’s, mixed nuts, carrots, granola bars, and fruit. Sure, I can afford to eat better.

But that would defeat the purpose.

Since Jeff’s boat does not have electricity nor offer any way to cook food, storing readily edible food in my car seems like the best solution. Or at least the cheapest. After the library, I may or may not head to the local gym (of which I recently purchased a month-long membership) to take a shower. Maybe exercise. Perhaps shave. Shaving my head in a public space makes me feel like other members know I’m an “anchor out.”

I go to work at The Spinnaker via my feet, my bike, or my car. Still in training, I’m not making anything beyond my hourly wage, which in California, is eleven dollars per hour. I’ve had worse. I enjoy my fellow bartenders. The rest of the staff seems nice enough… many of which have been working in this establishment for twenty years or more. I look forward to finishing my training and slinging drinks in the peak of the season. I take in one of the most incredible views I’ve ever seen. Every time.

If I drove to work, I’ll park my car back in the stretch of the main road where it won’t get towed. I walk to where the kayak is tied up, assuming it hasn’t been stolen. I really hope it’s there. I walk across the small beach that is connected to the restaurant. There are various people drinking their wine, having conversations, playing bocce ball. Maybe they’re here on vacation, maybe they’re locals. Maybe they watch me as I untie Jeff’s kayak from the fence and start paddling towards his boat. They might ask, “Is that your kayak?” or say, “Well I’m glad I talked my buddy out of taking that thing for a joyride!” This only adds to my anxiety about my current situation. I may look at the people dining in the neighboring restaurant, or maybe the next one over.

I wonder what they think of that guy over there paddling out to that boat.

That poor guy over there that is thankful for the stars in the sky tonight. The lights illuminating the city of San Francisco. The calm, relaxing, black-as-the-night water. The guy who is thankful for the opportunity to stay on a tiny little boat in the Richardson Bay with a strange and fascinating man with next to nothing.

“But he who is greatest among you shall be your servant. And whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.” – Matthew 23:11-12