June 2, 2008
The World is a Fickle Creature
When life is busy and it seems there is far too little time to accomplish everything which needs doing it is easy to get wrapped up in "now". In fact, it is also easy to get wrapped up in "later" because so much attention is placed there. The final days before my departure for the UK are ticking down. It seems everything remains to be done, nothing is going to get the attention it deserves, and I will not get any sort of break or enjoyment out of the entire deal. I know this is not true, but the world has very much felt that way.
The chaos of last minute travel arrangements, homework assignments that simply have no desire to cooperate, shopping to be wrapped up, work tasks to be completed and details that must be finalized have taken over. I neglected to consciously mark my anniversary with NASA as I usually do, and until I saw her away message I flat out forgot that today is exactly one year since my sister's wedding.
The apparent acceleration of the world has served to simultaneously crunch my time and stretch my metaphysical body.
By 7p it seemed little of value had been accomplished. An entire day I could not afford to waste had been lost. There would be no getting it back.
Outside my office the sky was grey. I walked slowly to my car visually taking in the scene before me in confusion. Something familiar struck me that I had not felt anywhere in recent memory. I could not figure out what it was tied to or what it was telling me. I became overwhelmed by the mystery and fragility the world carried in that moment.
Slowly some of the answers came, and with them I felt the pressure center in my brain expanding and the tiny knot in my heart coiling tighter around itself. I drove home with the windows down so I would not lose the scent of the summer rain. It seemed that to separate myself from it would destroy everything. My mind wandered. I barely broke 50 the entire drive home. I could feel that something had changed and I simply did not want to go where it felt my body was taking me. Everything in me had frozen, save one little voice begging for help or protection.
While rounding the final corner in the parking lot I surveyed the cars resting outside my building. The one I seemed to feel should have been there was absent. I have no idea what I had been expecting.
But I do know what I was not expecting: the rainbow I discovered delicately arching across the eastern sky. I paused a moment and studied it. One section seemed to have layers, each shorter and narrower than the one above it, almost as if it was stretching back into some other dimension the world could not touch.
Lightning flashed too quickly for me to catch and the clouds continued to move. I snapped a few more pictures before slowly walking home. Part of me felt calmer and more relaxed. The rest could not decide if I had been given a wonderful gift or was yet again the victim of a cruel trick. What else could I do with a rainbow and happy clouds?
Captured At:2021
June 7, 2008
The last trip was supposed to be a simple up and back. We were off to do good and further explore an opportunity to reach the real world. The weather patterns shifted between the easy trip up and the more difficult journey home. When it was all over we had spent more time in an airplane on the runway than we had with our potential new partners, yet we continued to believe the effort had been worth it.
Tomorrow brings another trip and, hopefully, a new adventure. The impending departure to points east has produced a kaleidoscope of emotions ranging from optimism and excitement to stress and uncertainty. I have tried to imagine what wandering these foreign lands may be like, but I realize there is no way to guess. I simply have to experience it.
From the moment I knew of it, my prayer for this trip has not changed. I hope for a safe journey which introduces me to people and places that open my eyes. I hope it builds my faith and confidence and understanding and gratitude. I hope it refreshes my soul and prepares me for whatever is to come next.
Slowly the nervousness of being 4000 miles from anything and anyone I know begins to melt. This has the potential to be an amazing trip. So long as I remember that I go nowhere completely alone, it will be.
Captured At: 910
June 13, 2008
Forced Pause
For the first time since Sunday I am forced to stop moving; to put my desire for exploration on hold in one place where I dearly hate to do so. I have just checked into an adorable little guest house in England's Lake district, but rather than wander the most rural place I have had freedom in I am flopped on the bed with ice on a knee I have been doing battle with all week. Sitting still on the train to come here did not help matters. When I exited the station the limp was far too obviously hindering what is usually a confident and fast-paced stride. If I am to survive the next week I must listen to my body and take care of it.
I wonder what it means when putting ice on something makes it hurt. My knee goes numb, however the ankle I have just transferred the bundle to responds very poorly. I suspect there is a much unwanted doctor's visit in my future.
The responses of hotel workers to my requests for ice have been varied and amusing. Battling with whatever solution was available has been a constant thread throughout this voyage and something which I have derived far more entertainment from than I probably should have.
Derivation of entertainment from strange places is not a new concept with me. Prior to our departure we received an official foreign travel briefing from a representative of the local counter-intelligence office. He warned us about doing anything that might look suspicious and to be careful about what we were taking pictures of. Given my recent run-ins with KSC security everybody in the room figured I was toast and they would have to bail me out of Scotland yard after they landed.
The guy giving the briefing seemed confused. His warning had been directed more toward things that a terrorist would take interest in, and he said that as long as I was not photographing power substations or things of that nature I should be fine. I told him that if I did it would not be intentional; that the way it usually works with me is that I do something I believe is harmless only to find out later that it was not. In this particular case, for example, I would think "Hey, that's cool!" and take the picture without knowing what I had actually caught on film.
The power substation has been a running gag among our quintet ever since.
So yesterday I found this amusing sign in Manchester that I simply had to have a picture of.
That's a heck of a warning and one I hadn't seen before, but it ended up not being the most amusing part. The sign directly above it nearly caused me to burst into laughter, and I had to snap a picture with the BlackJack and send it on so that my friends on the other side of the Atlantic could laugh with me.
I had been starting to wonder what would warrant that sort of alert. I also think I might have to include a copy in my debrief when I get back.
Being able to fire off random shots or thoughts from the road (or train or hotel or restaurant) has been a plus on this trip. There is freedom in traveling alone but, much like life in general, there is joy in being able to share the journey. In yet another apparent contradiction I seem wired for both. For now I think we are getting along just fine.
Captured At:1107
June 24, 2008
The Home Life Doesn't Change
The VAB was a welcome sight this morning. It seemed hard to believe one of my favourite symbols of home had been long out of view for the previous two and a half weeks. The days had zipped past, and understandably so. In that time I had rarely stopped moving to do more than sleep. Even naps stolen on planes and trains could be counted as in motion.For as much as I would like to sit down and collect pieces of the trip in written form, what comes forward first is being home. Within twelve hours of landing at MCO I was again boarding an airplane to fly to New York. Family obligations called, and when they do there is no question of whether or not to answer.
I have not seen summertime in the area where I grew up in at least five years. I felt more at home during my day and a half there than I have in a long time. I was also surprised to notice how much I had forgotten I missed: the entire family sitting outside after eating far too much, the sea of fireflies rolling across twilight fields, the amount of soft ice cream that can be piled into a cone, the familiar smell of an old basement, the excited greetings and chatter...
Today I was told that my face completely lit up when I talked about my family and the time I spent with them. How could it not? If I step back a moment to watch and listen, I recognize the attributes in them which have contributed to the person I am today. Exhausted as I was, I tried to tuck away and treasure as many of those moments as I possibly could. Who knows when I will have time like that with them again?
Another thing that impressed itself upon me was the interest my brother-in-law took in the places we went and the things we did. As he asked questions and snapped pictures he seemed to absorb the sights and the stories and the family history as if they were his own. It is some of the inheritance he received when he became part of us and it is sweet to watch him discover more of it. I see his continued love for my sister in so much of what he does.
The observations I made at home combined with the week my coworkers joined me overseas had a powerful impact. Some may prefer not to show it all the time, but there is no question I have several loving, genuine, honest people gently exerting their influence upon the uncharted course I am taking across the waters of life. When I consider those whom I have been given to share in that journey with I count myself truly blessed. I am also grateful for whatever moved in me to allow recognition and appreciation of that fact. It turns out there are some things you do not have to go very far away to discover.
Captured At:2057