A Place to Focus

Dearest Rachel –

After so many days at sea from L.A. to Hawaii, from Hawaii to Polynesia, and now from Polynesia to New Zealand, I’m starting to become aware of just how much of that time I’m spending in my stateroom, rather than getting out and wandering amongst the crowds, such as they are (this place isn’t anywhere near at full capacity, or so I’ve been told) aboard the ship. And when even I notice the amount of time I spend in my cabin, there’s definitely a problem.

Or is it really a problem?

I wonder if it’s not a question of what I want to get out of my stay here. Since I’ve generally thought of any cruise ship as merely a hotel that moves from city to city for me, I don’t necessarily see the point of interacting with my fellow guests. I mean, would I do that with fellow guests at a standard brick and mortar hotel? Not hardly. I’m not even the type to walk into a bar and try to chat somebody up there, despite the fact that that’s basically its purpose (and let’s set aside the fact that I’m not the type to walk into a bar, period; that rather goes without saying).

And yet, there are moments here where I feel like I’m supposed to be doing just that, whether I want to or not. Sometimes, I manage to suppress those feelings, and stay in my room, while other moments compel me to go outside of it and mingle (including those times when I’ve returned from breakfast only to find I Komang, my attendant, busily working on my room specifically; I honestly don’t know how I managed to do this, especially for three days in a row – and today was only different insofar as I was already back in my room when he came knocking in order to clean up. I convinced him to wait an hour for me to finish editing my video for the day; he complied, and returned just as I set it to render and upload).

This whole comic scenario between me and I Komang is based on the fact that what I’m trying to get out of this trip is something that few others might attempt; a daily (at least) record, in real time, of what’s going on around and to me. It requires me to step away from whatever is happening, on a regular, ongoing basis, collect my thoughts about it all, and commit it to paper or pixel or whatever, before the moment – and the impressions contained therein – fade from memory. And in order to do this, I need a place to focus, both to collect those thoughts, as well as assemble them for future consumption; by you, by those reading over your shoulder, and eventually, by me, once I’ve forgotten what it was like to be here.

Those places are harder to come by that you’d think.

As you can see, there’s a lot to this ship that, up until now, I haven’t shown you. In part, this is because I haven’t spent all that much time in these places myself. And that is because they don’t serve my purpose of being aboard ship; as pretty as they are, they actually distract from what I’m trying to do.

I know; it seems counterintuitive. The ship is, in fact, every bit as much a destination as any of the places we have been – and will be – visiting. Certainly, we all spend more time here than at any of the ports, or even all of the ports combined (and let’s factor out the time spent asleep; we’re literally not conscious of that time, so it really shouldn’t count). There ought to be a certain amount of attention given to whatever’s going on here.

And I do try; if nothing else, I have to leave the room in order to eat (well, technically, I could order room service, but seriously? That’s for honeymooners, which I am as far away from being as possible). While I don’t go so far as to attempt to sit down next to someone and strike up a conversation, I will talk to others as I make my way among and through them. It’s just that… it’s so much work to do so. I don’t know how others do it, and make it look so effortless. I think that I may have the people I interact with reasonably fooled, but it’s so difficult for me to do. I miss the days when I could leave this sort of interaction up to you, honey.

At the same time, I feel the need to keep up with things at home. There are bills to pay, naturally, and paperwork to deal with, as well as friends and family to contact and let them know personally how things are going. All of which require a quiet spot where I’m not disturbed by – or disturbing (I’ve gotten talked to about that several times, be it a phone conversation or one with a fellow passenger. I never thought of myself as that loud, but I guess I am) – other people. And the common areas, quaint and pretty though they are, are not particularly serviceable for those purposes.

It would probably make more sense to avail myself of somewhere else in the ship to ‘work’ if I were lodged in an interior cabin, or one with only a porthole view of the ocean (indeed, I’ve been led to understand that one feels the ocean considerably more in the lower decks, perhaps due to the proximity to the water line, however counterintuitive that might be – you would think the upper decks would sway more with the ship). But as it is, I have a view, I have fresh air if I want it, I have privacy, and most of all, I have quiet, allowing me to focus on the task at hand that I’ve set myself to. Someone else can debate whether it’s worthwhile, but I can do what I feel I need to here.

Anyway, I need to get back to ‘work’; since we’re getting into port tomorrow, and have another stop the next day, I ought to look into where I’ll be, and what I’m likely to see and do there. So keep an eye on me, honey, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.