my i, come in, grab hold / just this once
I've been initiated.
Today, I went to kayaking again. Only a couple other people were there, five of us total with Paraic reading a newspaper nearby. I worked on my roll. That roll is as easy for me now as breathing. Granted, breathing is quite hard to do while underwater. But the point is that I'm comfortable with it. Wednesday, we'll see if I can't do one left-handed or do one with a trick-boat. (There are long kayaks which are used for things like polo. They're also easy as anything to roll. Trick-boats are wider, so you need to have more skill.) So there were two major events of the night, the first being that I got the roll down like nothing else. The second is that Ronny stuck his tongue out at me. I know that sounds like the dumbest thing in the world, but I don't care. The kayakers do this thing, they just stick their tongues out at each other. It's a sort of communication thing. It's comparable to me saying "hey yo." Well, Ronny said "hey yo," and I said "hey yo" right back. I've been initiated into the group. It's true. Next thing you know, one of them will flip me over when I least expect it and leave me to roll myself back above the water. I think that's probably comparable to confirmation into a church.
So, about the kayaking club. They're this really cool group of people. If you do something that everyone knows you've been working on, they clap and cheer for a bit. I know it's simple. It's just, Ronny for example is this uber-good boater, right? And to see someone who's good at something commemorating you for that same thing, it's just nice. And everyone just kind of backs you up for a bit. And you know that if people start cheering for someone else, you'd join in.
I guess this is probably that bit about community that Nialle and I argued about for so long. Nialle was searching for and appreciating community, and I couldn't be bothered with it. Community-relationships just seem so fake to me, like a sorority that you pay into--pay here and have instant friends. Well, I guess I paid my dues by being interested in the same sport they're interested. But it doesn't feel fake at all. You can tell they're interested in you and your accomplishments, largely because they've been in the same position. They've had their first successful roll, and they've developed that roll until it felt natural. So it's not as though they like me simply because I've paid in. We just understand that we're similar due to some similar experiences.
Maybe that's why I appreciate it so much. I know I'm just playing my violin, but it always seems like my experiences are different from nearly everyone elses'. I went to college, like loads of people, but I don't think I approached it the way other people did. Sure, someone must have approached it the same, but I've never met them or never known them well enough to realise it. But here I am, and we don't understand each other because of our ideas on life or our areas of study or our home lives; we understand each other because of experience. And that makes me happy. Undeservedly happy.
It's possible I'm reading into this whole bit way too much. But you know what? I've found something that makes me happy, so I don't rightly care. And honestly, I think no one in the kayaking group would say it's all in my head--they'd probably just take the piss out of me for thinking about it so much. I suppose that means we get along because of our experiences and our collective sense of humour. I'll take that.
Today, I went to kayaking again. Only a couple other people were there, five of us total with Paraic reading a newspaper nearby. I worked on my roll. That roll is as easy for me now as breathing. Granted, breathing is quite hard to do while underwater. But the point is that I'm comfortable with it. Wednesday, we'll see if I can't do one left-handed or do one with a trick-boat. (There are long kayaks which are used for things like polo. They're also easy as anything to roll. Trick-boats are wider, so you need to have more skill.) So there were two major events of the night, the first being that I got the roll down like nothing else. The second is that Ronny stuck his tongue out at me. I know that sounds like the dumbest thing in the world, but I don't care. The kayakers do this thing, they just stick their tongues out at each other. It's a sort of communication thing. It's comparable to me saying "hey yo." Well, Ronny said "hey yo," and I said "hey yo" right back. I've been initiated into the group. It's true. Next thing you know, one of them will flip me over when I least expect it and leave me to roll myself back above the water. I think that's probably comparable to confirmation into a church.
So, about the kayaking club. They're this really cool group of people. If you do something that everyone knows you've been working on, they clap and cheer for a bit. I know it's simple. It's just, Ronny for example is this uber-good boater, right? And to see someone who's good at something commemorating you for that same thing, it's just nice. And everyone just kind of backs you up for a bit. And you know that if people start cheering for someone else, you'd join in.
I guess this is probably that bit about community that Nialle and I argued about for so long. Nialle was searching for and appreciating community, and I couldn't be bothered with it. Community-relationships just seem so fake to me, like a sorority that you pay into--pay here and have instant friends. Well, I guess I paid my dues by being interested in the same sport they're interested. But it doesn't feel fake at all. You can tell they're interested in you and your accomplishments, largely because they've been in the same position. They've had their first successful roll, and they've developed that roll until it felt natural. So it's not as though they like me simply because I've paid in. We just understand that we're similar due to some similar experiences.
Maybe that's why I appreciate it so much. I know I'm just playing my violin, but it always seems like my experiences are different from nearly everyone elses'. I went to college, like loads of people, but I don't think I approached it the way other people did. Sure, someone must have approached it the same, but I've never met them or never known them well enough to realise it. But here I am, and we don't understand each other because of our ideas on life or our areas of study or our home lives; we understand each other because of experience. And that makes me happy. Undeservedly happy.
It's possible I'm reading into this whole bit way too much. But you know what? I've found something that makes me happy, so I don't rightly care. And honestly, I think no one in the kayaking group would say it's all in my head--they'd probably just take the piss out of me for thinking about it so much. I suppose that means we get along because of our experiences and our collective sense of humour. I'll take that.