(no subject)
i won't lie. i have been avoiding this entry. but after talking to many SASsers and reading some of theirs, i feel it is time to analyze and verbalize [or at least write] the spectrum of emotions and thoughts that have run tirelessly through my head and heart in the past 375 days.
january 18 of last year, i took a deep breath and walked across the gangway onto the ship that would be my home for the 100 most eye opening, trying, fulfilling days of my life. i swallowed back tears as i said goodbyes to my mom [easily one of the most important people in my life] and set sail into the dark wet, unknown. i was prepared to change. it wasn't that i didn't like who i was; it was simply that many alumni had experienced what it was like to transform on the open ocean and wanted us to be ready and open to the challenge. i was ready. as ready as i could be. i was terrified and unsure and more excited than i have ever been. i wonder if my wedding day butterflies will ever compare to the ones set free on embarkation day.
one year after "wave day" i sat in a stuffy classroom in northeastern pennsylvania, listening to teachers talk about the foundations of american education, and strategies for teaching young children to read. rather different then clutching the railing above my head as our lifejacketed bodies slid from one side of the fifth deck to another. i looked out the window and saw snow flurries hitting asphalt and trees, rather than rain pelting down on angry, gray and white waves as they licked the fifth deck's floor. here i saw one of the men on the maintenence staff spreading salt on the ground, keeping students safe in the face of a little slippery patch of sidewalk. a year ago, i saw a crew member climb up, without a harness or rope, on the side of the ship to make sure a lifeboat was secure, keeping students safe in the face of the very real possibility that we would need to evacuate. instead of hearing the hum of the overhead projector and the somewhat droning voice of the teacher as i fought to pay attention to material that might appear on our next test, a year ago i heard the beat of the rain, the fervent, whispered prayers of the crew members as they fingered their rosaries, and desperately fought to keep my calm and pay attention to the voice of the captain on the loudspeaker.
it seems impossible that it was a year ago. i agonize over how little i appear to have changed. but then i am reminded, by the littlest things, that i have, in fact, made small strides towards being a better person.
i can't think anymore now....i'll continue this later.