We’ve had smooth sailing on the Queen Mary 2, except for the waves that kicked up last night. In the evening prior to dinner, Zsolt and I were down in the games alley near the bottom of the ship, staring out the windows with other guests and saying along the lines of: “Look at that! Woah! Here’s another!” as the waves coming off the ship collides with waves approaching from the oceans for robust claps of water that shot spray high into the air. It was powerful and wonderful.
But then, later in the evening, as we lay in bed and rocked back and forth – suddenly, I no longer found it so wonderful. There was some point where we suddenly seems to tilt a little too much in the other direction unexpectedly (to me at least), and this was startling. So I opened my eyes and began to worry.
And that is what I did for quite a while. I worried. I lay in the darkness and thought about how we were literally in the middle of the Atlantic all alone. How this massive ship looked like a toy boat against the spread of Atlantic all around us. How one employee had been saying that in the winter, they’d once sailed through 12 meter waves, which was quite scary (yesterday waves were about 4 meters high). How if the ship flipped, we’d be stuck. How if we went into the water, we’d freeze and drown. How many things could go wrong? And part of me waited just in case the alarm signal went off, and we’d need to jump out of bed and grab the life jackets.
Zsolt was sound asleep throughout all of this, totally minta bunda – which is Hungarian for ‘like a fur’ as in, like a bear hibernating in the winter. As in, it really wasn’t a big deal and I was most certainly over exaggerating.
And the logical side of my mind realized this over exaggeration. Only hours earlier, I had been thrilled with the sight of those waves, and was loving watching them slam and crash together. It was beautiful.
The logical side of my mind also said: Hey, you are in a warm and comfortable bed, next to the person you always want to be next to, and you are on a gorgeous holiday – enjoy it, lady.
To which I replied: WE MIGHT TIP OVER!
To which the logical side said: then deal with it as it comes, and go to sleep in the meanwhile.
And then I had to agree with myself. It reminded me very much of the later-coming September scans. This time I’ll have my chest scanned and my head. I am, of course, very nervous about with may be seen – particularly since the news wasn’t happy last time. So you know, I dread September and that is the truth.
But at the moment, I’m on the way to Hungary with my husband. It is our 10 year anniversary since having met, and we will be stopping by Nice – the place we met – to be sentimental and romantic and possibly get a tan on the beach.
Perhaps I should extend my experience on the boat to that in life: deal with it as it comes, and just enjoy in the meanwhile.
It’s a challenge to let the logical and the emotional meet in one place. I am still scared of the scan. I am still nervous of nighttime waves . . . but then, so many wonderful things are happening all around today. And sometimes, I have to make my body and mind realize that worrying won’t do anything. It won’t make the ship sail better, and it won’t help the scans to come.
After trying a couple restoration yoga poses, I finally settled into sleep mode and began to think about Romeo and Juliet. The actor troop here on the boat will be performing it today, and Zsolt would like to catch the show – never having seen it done live. I began thinking how way back in high school, grade 10, I was lucky enough to play Juliette in a classroom dramatization. It was the death scene. I worth a skirt and dress shoes, which looked clunky under the white sheet they draped over me as I lay there ‘fake dead’ while Romeo threw his life away over a miscommunication. Then I got to shot myself in the head with a foam Nerf gun, and fall to the ground – trying to hide my fit of giggles.
The teacher said I, and my friend Derrick who played the priest, had done particularly good jobs in acting the parts. Based on this single compliment back when I was 15 years old, I have always quietly held the belief that I’m a damn good actor. Of course, I have not tested that hypothesis ever since.
And then, I realized, I’d forgotten all about the waves, and was finally ready to fall asleep.
One thing about the past, it is certainly useful when distractions are needed.
So that is the story of big wave-like metaphors, and trying to fall asleep.
P.S. We are having a lovely time.
P.P.S. This post brought to you by my man Zsolt, who has been working much of the trip and I’m literally snagging some of his precious internet minutes. Thanks babe!
P.P.S Picture time!