Energized!

What I have been trying to say in my last two posts is the way that this journey is not what I thought it would be; and, of course, that is how life is—not how we think it is going to be. I have emerged from that realization quite energized by the reality, though. I am learning to live in a closed community of 1,000 people; they are in my face and my reactions to them put me in my face, all of it calling for a level of tolerance, flexibility, coping, courage, acceptance and so on. There is nowhere else to go!

Just, let’s talk about food for a minute. That lovely dinner I had with Chef Jose in Mauritius? I ate at least five desserts because I could, and because they were beautiful and so tempting. Food on the ship is food; it is there to provide sustenance, and every day I experience it more this way. What a vivid illustration of the way in which desire is aroused and whetted for endless pursuit. How long has it been since food was simply food and not an event? Mind you, I look forward to food as an event, too, and especially as a social event with family and friends!

And the ocean, the ocean is a relationship that I had not anticipated. I thought I was going to go over the ocean to Brazil and Africa and India. I did not understand that the ocean was going to require much more energetic and deep engagement. I did not understand the deep trance that I still don’t know whether to attribute to the ocean herself or to the medicating patches. But the first day after we leave port, everyone sleeps for hours. Today I slept for four hours during the day, and I am ready to go to sleep for the night. By tomorrow I will start to have my sea legs and sea psyche and I will work out and so on…then the level of energy tends to build until we arrive at the next port. We have A days and B days when I teach different classes, and port days, and the rhythms of life relate to these, not to days, weeks, weekends, months.

And tomorrow I go, by invitation only, to the Captain’s Table for dinner. Everyone does this and I believe that I am in the final group, the rag-tags, as I like to imagine us. The next night I teach a community class on meditation basic skills, and since we are approaching India, I will throw in a Hindu chant or two. The next day is the Sea Olympics, with the whole ship divided up into Seas. The faculty and life-long learners are the Silver Sea (a short stop on the way to the Dead Sea!), and I am on the Tug-rope Team. I suggested events like recitation of ills and surgeries, name that medication, I remember the day, afternoon napping, sentimental song lyrics—things we might actually win—but it was too late; the events had been decided. No one was funny for the first several weeks and none of us noticed the absence of humor because we were intent on figuring out where we were and what was called for. Now some humor begins to emerge and it is especially pleasant after an absence!

I recall reading Thomas Merton describe life as the opening of a series of packages, that at first, we rip into the package, dying to know what it contains, then always experience a little disappointment because it does not contain the elixir of permanent bliss. Gradually, we learn to enjoy the package, understanding that all packages are empty boxes, but that the unwrapping is exquisite. And so my trip around the world is both more of the same and amazingly exquisite.