Settling In; Will I Stay Settled?

Dearest Rachel –

Aside for the fact that this “at sea” portion of this leg of the cruise is going to go on for nearly a full week, there’s nothing particularly out of the ordinary about moving into my cabin. You and I cruised together (mostly with family, of course, but occasionally on our own) maybe a dozen times or so – this process, while still unusual compared to ordinary life at home, is fairly straightforward, almost old hat. Although… “moving in” definitely describes what I’m doing, here. I’ve tried to pack as many essentials as will keep me in at least the first two levels of Maslow’s hierarchy for three full months.

That’s the kicker, here, and it’s not something that can be grasped in these first few days – or, really, in any single moment of time. But that’s how we live life, honey, one moment after another. We don’t – can’t – experience time in any sort of broad sweep, in the same way we can see both pixels on a screen when we’re up close to it (not that I recommend doing that for any extended period of time, of course, but bear with me for the sake of the analogy) and then back away to see the image those pixels assemble to create. Aside from reading history books – or, on a more personal level, going through scrapbooks and old photographs – we can’t take in long periods of time, except for the moment we’re living in at that moment, and then the moment after that, and the moment after that, and so on.

So for now, the morning rises on our first day, and while I grasp intellectually that this is the first of more days than I’ve ever done this, it just feels like the first day of my trip – not really any different than any other such.

I think I compared the cabin to a college dorm room in the video at some point. In terms of size, that’s not an unreasonable comparison – actually, between the balcony and the bathroom at opposite ends, the cabin might well be larger than our dorm rooms back at college, in fact. But of course, even more than the size of my living space (which is that much larger due to the fact that I’m not having to share it with a roommate, with all those attendant issues), there’s the fact that I’m here for what amounts to nearly a full semester. And unlike college, it’s not like I can leave the campus at any point of time – oh, there will be the ports of call, sure, but I can’t just pick up and leave any time I feel like. Although, come to think of it, I couldn’t leave any time I felt like it then, either, as I had classes and my on-campus job and stuff like that. But what I mean is, I can’t just decide to go home at this point, even for a visit; I’m committed to be here. And like with college, I paid for this; I might as well squeeze everything out of it that I can.

I find myself wondering how the extended time aboard is going to play out. I recall eventually getting the lay of the ship down over barely a week aboard; how much more will there be to see and explore over the course of three months? Will I actually get sick of the place after a while? Not necessarily physically sick – although who knows, since we’re traveling across the misnamed Pacific; seasickness, although I’ve never experienced it before while cruising, isn’t out of the realm of possibility. That may well be another day’s topic, especially since you always wanted the chance to take such a trip. No, I’m just talking about getting tired of being in the same place, doing approximately the same things, day after day for so long. Is it possible that it would become tedious to me?

It actually seems absurd to consider that possibility at this point, as we’re just getting started. Even once we get further in – and I’m sure you’d agree with me – there’s never been a point where this attitude has come up on one of these trips. On the contrary, when we pull into our disembarkation port, we always used to find ourselves wishing it could go on for so much longer: “Wouldn’t it be great if we could live on one of these things? We could just stay here and keep going as long as we wanted…”

Well, that’s one of the many things this trip is meant to test. Will I still be feeling that same “I don’t wanna leave!” malaise upon our arrival in Dubai and my resulting departure? Or will I be itching to get myself home, and back to my safe place, even if it means getting back to the responsibilities that call to me even now, even here? I suppose we’re going to find out.

So, for the duration, honey, keep an eye on me, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.