Sailing through life

It’s interesting to think how one person’s hell is another’s luxury.
After reading The Life of Pi I have a new understanding of how some must view a life at sea. Granted, I am not ship wrecked, or stranded on a lifeboat with no company but a tiger. I have been sailing from before I could walk; I learnt to steer a boat before I learnt to drive a car. Some, however, have not been so fortunate. Some do not understand the ways of a boat.

They don’t know that dolphins are the socialites of the sea. That they love the sound of a ship’s motor and will swim alongside you, dancing and playing, until you cease to acknowledge them and they get bored.

They would not know that when a boat leans on its side, lying on the sea as if lying down to bed as we do, so that when you are on the inside of the boat looking out you do not see sky or land (if there happens to be any close by) but only water, as if you are swimming with the fish, that his extreme tilting of a boat is not dangerous, not something to worry about; it is natural. The boat is bending her ear to the tumultuous sea to hear it whisper and better understand its moods. A well designed boat- a graceful lady of the water- will then straighten herself with no need of help from her captain (who really serves her more than she serves him) and will carry on her buoyant dance through the sea, whom she now has a better understanding of.
No, some one who does not know boats may not appreciate that exchange.

Just as they may not know that there are fish with wings- rightfully named flying fish. This sounds like a fairy tale now but it is the truth, which only someone who sees them in action would believe. They breach the waves and spread their wings, not covered with feathers but with scales, and when they catch the wind just right, like the sail of a boat, they fly alongside a 50 ft Beneteau with ease, clearing the length of the boat and then some before closing their wings and ducking their heads and diving back into their watery home.

Likewise, one who does not appreciate these things may not realise that there is a special moment when you are lying on the bow of the boat with the wind coming at you and all around you, when the hull hits a wave in that moment where you are pointing to the skies, before the boat comes down on the other side of the wave when, just for that brief moment, you feel this is the closest you will ever come to flying; like the fish beside you and the birds above you, this is the only time you can know what it is like to have wings.

No, someone unfamiliar with sailing not privy to the ways of the water will never know these small blessings of the sea. I am fortunate and I am in awe; open water is a world in itself.

New.

There is something so fulfilling about finishing a semester at a new school, in a new place, with new people, yet feeling at home.

Something blissfully rewarding about looking back on the four months that have just flown by, leaving you dazed in the wake of the wind that hit you as the wings of time beat by you.
Something amazing about looking back on all those things that seemed so new that are now familiar. All those faces you did not know, that you now hold dear. All those once unfamiliar places that now welcome you as your home does, with open arms and a warm hug (though the winter months are cold).
Something special about remembering that first encounter with a new friend, when you were wearing nothing but a bathrobe and you were so uncomfortable but she was so friendly. Or when you watched Doctor Who with a cute boy and how that night turned into a relationship. Or the friend with the tin mug, the girl you call your “twin”, and the ‘crazy’ friend you love.

I like to think that these people, these new people know me as I am. Not as I was, and not yet as I will be. They only know of my past what I want them to know, only what I think they need to know. Not that I have to hide things, but I have grown, I know I’ve grown, and these ‘new’ people know this ‘new’ me. Funny how new things seem to come together. And now they are not new, the are friends. And we will face new 'new' things together.

Most of all, there's something so heart-warming about the happy memories you have made. Something so fortunate about the sadness you feel saying goodbye for 3 short weeks after 4 short months together.
I look back at my first semester at Northeastern with love and happiness, and I am so lucky.

Friendship

Feelings are strange, uncontrollable things.
Feelings set the course for our relationships, our friendships, and ourselves.
Feelings are like the compass we use to navigate when we are unsure, like the flashlight we use to illuminate the dark unknown. We resent the compass when it leads us astray; get angry with the flashlight when its beam is too dim. Yet we would be even more lost without them.

Relationships are founded in and strengthened by our feelings. When I say relationships I mean friendships too, because they are the same as romantic relationships, if not more significant and important.

Friendships teach us how to trust; how to rely on other people when we need them most and to appreciate them for always being there for us. They teach us how to communicate; how to say when something small is bothering us so it does not become something big. Friendships teach us to give each other space, but to know we will always be there for one another. They teach you how to form other relationships and still have faith in the one, or few, best friends that mean the most to you. They teach you how to overcome, and to always hold on to those you love.
Romance comes and goes but friends only leave you when you give up on them. So don’t give up, it’s as simple as that.

A friendship is like a map. If you can form a caring, trusting, mutually exclusive friendship you are drawing your own map for other relationships in life.
A friend teaches you to love a sibling.
A friend teaches you to love romantically. Because if you cannot be friends with a partner first your map is incomplete, you will get lost (but that’s not to say you won’t have fun along the way).

Friends are the most important people in your life; so unless you have a very good reason to never, ever let them go. If they are true friends they won’t let you go either.

Aunty Angela

Life is fleeting.
It doesn’t need to be said yet it is often forgotten.
Life is precious and wonderful and painful and unfair and fleeting.

It may seem never ending at times but don’t be fooled. It’s gone in the blink of an eye. You take a breath and you’re in college, you shed a tear and you have your first job, you laugh and you have a family and then you blink and it’s all over.
Life can so easily be stolen by a vicious murder or equally vicious cancer.

This does not mean that it is pointless, or to be taken for granted. This means quite the opposite in fact.
It means that every moment you spend with your husband or your mother or your sister or your son should be a moment of unquestionable love. You do not have to say it every minute of every day, but show it. Make sure the people that you love know that you love them so that when you are gone they remember you with happy tears in their eyes and in their hearts.
It means that you should never take the people in your life for granted because you do not know how long they will be in your life.
It means that you should live with the intention and the attitude that you do not and will not be taken for granted.
It means you should make the most of every smile you smile and every tear you cry because you never know when they will be your last and the overwhelming sensation of being full of emotion is what makes life worth living.

I have been so lucky in my life, so fortunate to know some truly amazing individuals. I was lucky enough to know one of the most beautiful women, inside and out, that anyone could hope to meet. She was strength, she was courage, and though I never told her she was and always will be my inspiration. I loved her in life, and I will continue to love her in death.
We should all be so lucky to know an amazing person like this woman. We should always tell them how much we appreciate them.

Tell your role model, tell your mother, tell your friends.
And live each day like it’s your last.

Rest in Peace Aunty Angela.

First Snow.

There’s something so hopeful in the first snow of the year, so full of promise. Yet there is something sinister in the biting cold. Isn’t that how life is? A wonderfully exciting mix of hopeful and sinister, and guessing which will come next.

There is something blissfully sweet in tasting fresh snow on your tongue.

As I slipped and slid through the already melting snow on the sidewalk in front of my new home many of my new friends asked if this was my first time seeing snow.
No, I replied, but I always consider it my first time anyway.

Isn’t it nice to think that as you watch the delicate fat flakes drift slowly to the earth that this is the first time you are ever seeing something so beautiful? Isn’t it a nice feeling that the rush of excitement you feel as you don your jacket and gloves (or in my case socks) and rush out into the cold to warm your heart with childish play is as if for the first time, every time?

There is something so hopeful in the promise of the first snow of the year, barely fresh on the ground before it is in your hands and you’re hurling it at your friend. Something so beautiful about how the snowflakes settle in your eyelashes and make the whole world look, if only for that fleeting moment, perfect.
In that moment time stands still. It is not the first snow of the year, but the only snow of the year, and every snow of the year. It is the winter you spent snowed in in Italy, and the surprise snow in Cyprus, and the first snow you ever saw and the last snow you will ever see all at once. It is hopeful, it is infinite.

And then a snowball hits you and the rush brings you back to the present, and the cold catches up with you and you can’t feel your cheeks or your hands, but you are happy.

Lost Ships

We are, each of us, just ships sailing blindly trough the night. We navigate with no precise destination and we learn new routes along the way.
We are, each of us, lonely. We crave companionship, be it friendly or romantic, and without it we feel lost.

I don’t like this concept. I don’t like the notion that without a significant other we feel incomplete. I don’t like the thought that if you have not met the right person yet– or any person for that matter- that you have not succeeded.
I love my friends: I have succeeded.
I love being alone: I have succeeded.

Succeed on your own. Plot your own course and navigate through the night. Then you will be accomplished. Then whomever you meet will be significant.
We do not need other ships to help us on our way. We gain nothing from following another lost wanderer. Find your way, then help another.
Find the North Star to lead you home. Find it within yourself.

Crash into me

Life is a series of collisions.
We collide with a doctor’s waiting hands at birth, collide with a stranger on the street or a person we are destined to love, collide with a wall or a door or a moment and our lives change forever. Life is not measured by the things we did and did not do. It is measured by the experiences we have and the impact that we leave.

Sometimes you simply collide and keep on going; some interactions are a hit and run. But then there are the few, the memorable few who you crash into. You crash and then you are never the same. You crash and a part of them is embedded in you, or you in them. Like the exchanged paint on a car’s bumper that has collided with another car’s fender.
Sometimes they break you. The crash leaves you broken and bruised, damaged seemingly beyond repair. But then you pound out the dents and get a new paint job and if you’re lucky you’re better than new. Sometimes the crash hurts you or scares you, but it can always be fixed. You can always be fixed.
And sometimes it’s a good crash. Sometimes the dents are good and the scratches heal on their own and you are better off because of it. These crashes, these people are the best friends, the college roommates, the first loves and almost first loves. You crash into them and you are never the same.

Collide, and your life will begin.