On the Road Again

At this time tomorrow, I will be in the village of Guayanilla, Puerto Rico, commencing my first internship of 2012.  I will be working at a marine station with a Ph.D. student and other interns on a project to determine why humpback whales are showing up in Puerto Rico and how they are using this habitat, based on analysis of behaviors, photographs, and acoustics. My primary duty will be listening to the acoustic data that have been recorded on hydrophones stationed off the coast of the island for humpback whale calls.

It will be a good foot in the door, if I decide that marine biology is a field that I would like to pursue, as I will gain some valuable experience in just a month's time.

Similar to my work in Ireland, the marine station in Puerto Rico is supposed to be fairly removed from civilization with patchy and/or limited internet access, so I will do my best to keep up with blog posts!

Backtracking

I used to just go for it when guys made flirtatious advances, like when I was at a music festival in Ireland.  The guy I had just danced with asked for a peck on the cheek, but instead, turned his head for a full blown kiss on the lips, which I permitted, and reveled in the attention.

But last night at the contra dance, when a friend sneaked a kiss, I did not reciprocate.  I hadn’t even been prepared to dodge it, as I had become accustomed to doing whenever he attended dances.  And I was upset that the boundary of flirtation had been crossed, which I had laid out and started to explain the rationale of via online chat with him.  Did he not respect me and my wishes, just as another former “friend” had demonstrated with similar, albeit recurrent behaviors, two years ago? 

Once we were out of the contra line, I explained to him my reasons in greater detail, which was that after having my heart obliterated in my last relationship, I am not ready to trust anyone with it, no matter how serious or not the pursuit is, for I also can’t trust myself, since I over-analyze simple gestures and fall into romance too quickly.  He understood and apologized, which I appreciated and thanked him for.  Also, I realized after the fact that I had actually said “thank you,” instead of “it’s okay,” like I usually do, which always seems like I’m just dismissing something as insignificant, to which I really did take offense. 

As we sat out a square dance, I divulged further the conditions of my past relationship, break-up, and “friendship,” why I became so angry with my ex recently and lashed out.  I felt miserable after reopening those old wounds.  I sat there thinking more on the subject, as my friend went off to dance and I munched on a cookie, which he had provided as a peace offering.  I thought back to that first waltz with my ex and how, in that instant, something just clicked.  It felt right to be in his arms, and I know that he had felt it too.  I thought about how I hadn’t loved anyone before in the way that I had love him.  It was a new feeling that was completely unnerving, but wonderful at the same time. 

Yet, as I explained to my friend, as well as in a couple of posts ago, my ex has some growing up, soul-searching, and self-exploration to do.  It’s even more upsetting that after all of this time, and all of the pain that he has caused, he still has a hold on me.

Furthermore, this new, unexpected approach to dealing with such flirtation/romance matters could either aid me in identifying and ignoring lustful whims, in favor of real and budding love, or it could cause me to become emotionally withdrawn, cold, and unfeeling.  I am uncertain as to which path I am currently on.

Broadening Horizons

Dear Friend,

I wouldn't say that any single culture is solely responsible for harboring individuals, who are full of themselves and narrow-minded. There are lots of people like that out in the world and, perhaps, we notice it more in the cultural group, to which we belong. This is also partly why I typically don't hold Americans in very high regards, since there seems to be a prescribed way to do things, to feel, to behave, and anything different is wrong within this society. Although, maybe this is a stereotype that I've formed based on my limited life experiences and the media's portrayal of American culture, or at least, how they think it should be.

Then, perhaps, I am just as narrow-minded as those, who I am condemning, as I refuse to be open to their beliefs and ideas about the way things should be because there isn't just one way.  I try to stop and think about these things when I find myself being overly judgmental.  I find that, usually, when I am judging something or someone most intensely, it is because I have a similar flaw within myself, upon which I need to improve.  I still struggle with this though, as we humans have this strong desire to define and classify what is right and wrong; valiantly upholding the right and harshly condemning the wrong, not allowing room for a middle ground.

Yet, I do believe that there is truth to the idea that traveling broadens one's horizons and opens one's mind to alternative ways of thinking and living.  We are allowing ourselves to grow and learn.  Whether we know it or not, we are changing during this travel time, so that we are no longer the same individuals upon our return home, where, generally, all remains the same.  However, in any kind of relationship, the parties involved need to grow together, in order for it to continue to work, otherwise it becomes stagnant and unhealthy.  The latter is often how I feel when I return home, as if I need to fit myself back into the Ann mold that exists here in this environment.  But it doesn't work very well and I end up finding myself miserable and unmotivated.  I'm not living for the same things as I was when I was off in the world and I find it difficult to change my outlook, change my environment.  Perhaps, one day, I will come to appreciate home for what it is and not what I expect it to be.

Maybe in our little community in British Columbia, we all shared that traveling mentality, which allowed us to be more open, accepting, and inviting.  I do think that the small, personal communities of individuals make a difference in feeling a sense of unity and belonging.  Our commonalities, as well as our differences, bring us together.  Not to mention, in an environment where we are confronted with the same individuals on a day-to-day basis in work and home life, we have the opportunity to become closer and more connected.  This is one of the things that I really love about internships, developing a close-knit community.  Unfortunately, outside of that environment, life tends to take its toll and distance can overcome these connections, since one is no longer able to interact with those individuals in the same way.  Also, as we get older, life gets in the way, and we tend to focus only on ourselves and individuals in our immediate surroundings.

It's not ridiculous to feel the way that you do or to have experienced so much love from an unfamiliar group of individuals.  Anything is possible.  I do remember in one of our first conversations when you said that you didn't trust people very readily and generally had your guard up.  I'm so happy that we all helped to restore a bit of your faith in humanity and recognize that there are trustworthy people, who are also capable of much love, caring, and support.  I hope that you continue to find this in life.

Scattered Thoughts

After working for a few years at the Northampton Starbucks, I dreaded the thought of moving there within a bustling city in 2008, in which running into my customers was unavoidable, in spite of the convenience of a shorter commute to work and my social life.  But now, on the bus ride this morning, I felt excited to return.  This time, it feels more like home, like a better fit.  Granted, it still has its problems, but the city seems to make greater strides towards progressivism and boasts far more local and independent businesses than my chain store dominated home town of West Springfield.  It certainly has a lot to do with the citizens of Northampton, their mentalities, values, and interests.  There’s also a greater feeling of community, or at least sub-communities that are easily accessible.  Again, much of it may be an illusion, my rosy picture of how I remember the city.  I’m reminded of it during my travels, as I identify communities with a similar feel for me, like Salt Spring Island and Bend, Oregon.

Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like to be settled, to have my life organized, and to be an integrated part of a community.  That’s the real allure: community.  Communities have been established during my internships, but seem to be not meant to last.  When permanently settled, one can get involved in all of the organizations and volunteer activities that one desires, making long-term connections, seeing struggles through, and being a part of the successes.  I am fortunate to be continuously welcomed back into the contra community, though I feel that it might be different and even more worthwhile if I had greater involvement.  It seems like it might be easier to live out life in one place, where one’s support, love, comforts, and familiarities all exist.

Sometimes, I consider this, but I soon shake myself from this reverie and remember that this is not what I seek.  Maybe someday, but not right now.  There are still many places to travel, causes to contribute to, adventures to be experienced.  I can’t have two very different lives or aspects of these lives existing at the same time.  It’s just not possible, so I am forced to prioritize and keep my mind set in the direction of my goals.

By being bitter, I am still playing the victim, four months following the break-up, and I have not truly let go.  I feel as if I have been boasting my capability of holding a grudge for this long.  If I’m bitter, how can I truly be happy for him or supportive of what he wants for himself?  If I haven’t let go, then am I expecting something in return, some sort of amends?  If this is true, then how can I really say that I loved him, since I am not acting as such now and living up to my own ideals of what love is.  I am still letting his past actions affect me and control my happiness, for how can I be truly happy with such a burden to bear?  These questions make me reconsider my behavior.  For awhile, it was acceptable, or at least understandable, but there comes a time, when I need to toughen up, move on, and stop feeling sorry for myself.

Transformation of Friendship

It’s been a long time since I finished a book in a single sitting, a matter of hours.  I believe the last time it happened was at least four years ago when I flew through Burmese Days months before the respective assignment was due for my history course.  The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants was filled with lessons of friendship, of love, of life, of learning about oneself.  It made me laugh and it made me cry.  I got anxious and I got excited.  I became angry and I became reflective.

The reflection is coming on stronger, now that I have finished reading and had a bit of time to digest it all.  What is most painfully noticeable is that I miss my friends.  I always find myself coming back to this, no matter how old I get.  My mind drifts back to the close knit friends, particularly from high school, during a time when we were trying to understand ourselves, make sense of life, and dabbling in love.  We were each others’ worlds, offering comfort, support, courage, fun, unity.  Perhaps, this is just a romanticized notion of how friendship should be, an ideal that I desperately keep grasping for, even though it continues to fade away into a bleak abyss.

In adulthood, friendships like that don’t exist anymore, at least not long-lasting.  Now, it is all about time, place, convenience.  We seem to enter each others’ lives for a short time for some unknown purpose, which will change us, change our lives.  And then, in a flash, just when it seems true, just when it feels real, it’s gone, and I am left with the reality that I really only have me.  It becomes more challenging as life presses on and our worlds expand to maintain friendships, even those that meant the most to us because we can’t be everywhere at once.  There are so many limiting factors and we must take care of ourselves first, so that we may be capable of showing compassion for others.  Yet, too often, I think we take over our own lives.  It becomes difficult to see outside of our immediate surrounding, especially since there is always so much going on. 

           

I am not looking to find fault in anyone.  I am not pointing fingers.  I am just as guilty in this as anyone else, having gradually abandoned the friends, who I now long for or at least the memory of our friendship, in the face of a blossoming romance.  I was responsible for isolating myself, finding myself alone once love had faded.  Now, when I find myself picking out the flaws of others, I try to catch myself and reverse that scrutiny back upon myself, for I know that I am guilty of the same negative behaviors that are so obvious to me.  As I identify these, I try to improve upon them as I am able and willing, yet some may remain with nothing more than a longing, a hope, or a memory.