Make Welcome The Wild

boneyard sunrise

A while back we had the incredible opportunity to reimagine the branding and website for our friends at Coastal Expeditions. Our first meeting with husband-and-wife owners Chris and Kari Crolley was full of all the energy and excitement we hope for and seek out in clients. A few days after that initial meeting, Kari stopped by our office with a box . Inside it was a universe of things: sharks’ teeth, shells, dried plants and sea life, maps, animal skulls, postcards, and ephemera of all kinds. It was like a museum exhibit out from behind the glass, a work of art, and a deep look inside Kari and Chris’s hearts, minds, and souls. As we stood in amazement, pulling things out of the box, and naming them, Kari smiled and said, “I want you to make our website out of this box.”

I will always remember the power of those words and that gift.

In the work we do, we sometimes forget about the immense trust people put in us — to tell their stories, to rethink and reshape their brand, marketing, and businesses. When Kari gave us that box, to me she was saying, “Here is our livelihood, our passion, our family: please take them and us where we need to go.”

What an honor.

As I often do, I wrote a manifesto for Kari, Chris, and their incredible team: a story that speaks to more than just what and how they do what they do, but why it matters.

We study Lowcountry tides, flora, fauna, and history. We explore. Make maps and routes. Care for our guests. Refine our skills. Nurture our fleet. Feed our curiosity and sense of adventure. And work always in service of the natural, the mystical, and the magical.

We can’t summon the sunrise or sunset. And while we can’t beckon the blue heron, the osprey, or the dolphin, by virtue of our lifelong fascination and love for them, we find the route to be in their company, again and again. Which makes us devoted students of a particular discipline. Practitioners attuned to a particular frequency. Guides on a particular journey. Called to safely and securely put people in the path of beauty; then, step back, and witness what unfolds.

What moves you? When, or how will it manifest, we can’t predict. Is it sunlight shimmering along the water’s surface? Paddling toward your own strength? An ancient shark’s tooth in the palm of your hand whispering of millennia? The rush of air through a pelican’s wings as it takes flight?

Only you may know in that instant – when you move outside yourself – and into the wideness of the universe. On a soulful journey to become more than just aware of the beauty around you, but part of it. So that seeing a dolphin rise in the water beside you is no longer just a personal, glorious sight, it’s an exchange between another life and yours, a story to share, a feeling you can’t quite name. We believe that’s the exact place where want and wish fall away – and awe and wonder are revealed.

To us, that’s the connection we’re born for – the stimulation we long for. It’s the stuff of earth and sea and stars. Of people and animals and plants. Of natural and human history entwined. The understanding of our precious smallness in the largeness of the world and the rhythm we do not make, but are made of.

That’s the gift, and it belongs to all of us.

Coastal Expeditions
make welcome the wild

The W-L Club

I write about my childhood quite a bit. Perhaps because my memories are so vivid, I feel compelled to write them down. Perhaps if I understand who I was a child, I’ll better understand who I am now.

The other day, I got an email from a dear childhood friend. She was one of the original stomp girls about whom I’ve written. We who sang Joan Jett’s I Love Rock ‘N Roll at the top of our lungs at recess.

See, I had forgotten what started us in the first place. Until my friend Laura faxed me the gem below:

Screen Shot 2014-03-04 at 8.07.24 PMIt reads (with typos and misspellings included):

W-L Club

Women have rights. But how come their not equal? Some say that women are weak or to fragile to do a man’s job. For instance men think that women will never play football or baseball because we might break a fingernail. They don’t know about women inside. So I’ve started a club called W-L (Women’s Lib.) It will be at recess. You may ask questions and we’ll think about what to do to make a woman’s life better. We will work as a team. Why do some men act this way? Well they want to be A#1 of course they have to be better and stronger than women. Can we fight this for equal rights? I have know idea. Alot of women feel the same way we do. For more information, call Laura or Jenny.

Thank-you.

P.S. Keep this club private.

When I stopped laughing at how totally awesome and hilarious this little manifesto is, I felt that old feeling. I remember when the boys stopped letting us play football with them. I remember how some friendships vanished because we had reached the age when differences started creating distance. And, I remember how mad we were about it. Because all of a sudden, we weren’t just uninvited, we were no longer equal. Holy junior feminists, Batman! I get it. Now I remember the source of the stomping. If we were no longer invited, we would make our own party. We would sing loud. We would raise our fists. We would stomp. We would raise our fists. And one day, we would be equal.