Dearest Rachel –
For all that I’ve been able to enjoy myself in these ports of call (particularly here in my beloved Japan), I don’t mind telling you that I’m looking forward to this stretch of sea days. It’s not as if we’re deep in the middle of the Pacific, like we were during much of the first month – we’re basically going to be riding the eastern edge of the Asian continental landmass, for the most part – but we’re still going to be able to catch our breath from day after day of running around ports. Honestly, I’m trying to figure out how Daniel and I managed to do this last year without collapsing; was it because I wasn’t trying to film everything as we went along?
The basic gist of it is that, I’m just happy to let up off the throttle for the moment; there will be time soon enough that I’ll have to go back to pushing it to the wall again, so I need to rest and collect myself in the meantime. However…
I’ve noticed that, when I let myself go, and give myself full permission to relax… I can’t find it in me to do anything. If it weren’t for the fact that I get hungry at certain times, I wouldn’t so much as leave my room – and even then, I’ve bought a few snacks along the way that would almost suffice to allow me to not even bother with the dining room or the Windjammer (aside from the fact that I wouldn’t be getting my protein for the day). And that’s not good. Resting is one thing, and so is relaxing; but complete inertia is not healthy.
To be sure, it’s not as if I can go completely inert. In fact, I woke up this morning at five (well, as far as I was concerned, it was six, but since the ship has changed time zones to reflect that at our destination – even though at present, we’re still only halfway between Kyushu and Okinawa – we’d been asked to turn our clocks back overnight. I don’t generally bother, as my camera phones automatically adjust when we’re in port – and if I really need to know what time it is aboard ship, I can always check the Royal app), but simply lounged about the room for a few hours, catching up on the news from overnight and editing the last of the Osaka footage. And although I did get out for breakfast in the dining room, I found myself back in the room again by ten, watching YouTube and practically falling asleep. It would have been perfectly lovely…
Except I still have my responsibilities of home to deal with now and again, and getting the motivation to work on them, while virtually impossible when we’re in port, isn’t always easy even on a sea day. Especially when I’ve let myself go like this; the idea of actually getting on with working – any sort of working – brings out a sense of resistance from deep within me. My id protests: “We can relax – you said I could relax – and now, you’re asking me to go do something? I refuse; I absolutely refuse!”
Fortunately, my superego isn’t on its own when it comes to persuading the rest of me to get on with things; there are outside forces at work on me, as well. After a couple of hours of napping, there’s a knock on my door; it’s Marlon, asking when he can come in to make up my room. Now that I’m wide awake, it occurs to me that I could at least hit the gym while I’m giving him the time and space to do his job, and once I return, even working on a spreadsheet (or a letter) will seem so much easier in comparison. My superego simply sucker punches my id at this point, and drags it up the three flights of stairs to the fitness center, like a little kid taking his teddy bear off to bed with him.
For its part, my id doesn’t come to until I’m about half an hour into my incline walk, at which point it decides to keep quiet, all while giving my superego the side-eye. Meanwhile, my superego doesn’t notice or care, keeping its eye on the calorie counter on the treadmill: “You’re not getting off of here until you’ve burnt 750 calories, and walked 2¼ miles over forty minutes; got that?” And my ego, likewise cowed by the treatment my id just received, feels itself in no position to protest, especially since, at that point, we’re about three-quarters of the way into the process; it takes comfort in the fact that it’s all nearly over, and a shower and a little time in front of the computer will seem so much easier.
And that’s how it goes; if I let myself go too far, I don’t anything done, and that’s the sort of thing I can’t let happen. Fortunately – illnesses aside, and that’s a whole other story, I suppose – most days don’t let me let go completely like that. Maybe I’ll have days like that once I get home – and I don’t know if I should be dreading or anticipating them.
In any event, I think I’m going to get in a couple more hours of inertia at this point. If you’d be so kind, though, I still appreciate it if you’d keep an eye on me, and wish me luck. I’m pretty sure, I’m still going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 