It is indeed the Midwatch, the time of most darkness and danger for a ship at sea. I have climbed up into the Captain's Chair many times and in many oceans during the Midwatch, for Captains never really sleep. So I am even now up in the figurative Captain's Chair, unable to sleep, and deciding to read your latest Diary.
Notwithstanding my frequent comments to you about the dilution of time, energy and space, I was struck by your part this time about Jack. Now chronologically I am somewhat beyond Jack's years, but his reflection about time struck me right between the running lights. Last weekend I had my grandson Joshua and great granddaughter Eila with me in Captain's Quarters. They occupied the same accommodations that did you and Aaron when you were here. It was a time of refreshment and recollection for Josh, and a time for Eila, almost three, and Cappy to get to know one another and to build some new memories. But, and it is a big But for me, the realization of the passage of time, as did your friend Jack, was the most poignant. I will not see Eila graduate university, probably not make it to high school even, hopefully Middle School. We may make it for the negotiations over how many boxes of Girl Scout cookies will Cappy commit to, but not probably how many laps will she swim. We went together to Point Robinson Light, she collected shells for the first time, and we identified them together. One of the photographs that Josh took of the two of us was of us sitting on one of the benches out at the light and we are having a conversation. From the intensity of our expressions, it is clear that we are together solving one of the world's most serious problems. Then we went to her great grandmother Mary's gravesite, we did some cleaning and clipping together. (Mary died during the Midwatch.) It was and is important to me that even the youngest learn about the vagaries of life, to be ready when they happen to them.
At the end of our time together, at the Departure Ceremonies, I taught Eila the watchword at this place. "We never say goodbye, we say until we meet again". By this time Eila was in tears, for our time had been so rich for the three of us. But the reassurance from her Cappy that we would indeed meet again brought a little of sunlight back to her dear face. Your friend Jack captured all of this perfectly, for that time goes by so quickly, and it is to us to use it in the best way that we can. I have been given some extra years, and it is my hope that I am fulfilling that last commission.
So when I send you a signal about commitment and overcommitment, it comes to you with not only the same love that you send out to all on this circuit, but with a feeling much closer to my own crossing of the bar than yours that we use the time that is given to us in the best way.
I end this latest pontification with the same words that I wrote in every Night Order I ever wrote at sea,
I value your consistency! Thank you for sharing the post.
This reminded me a bit about my dream job AMA and how I didn’t fully recognize myself in the question months later:
“I thought back to the first day, when I was having a complete panic attack about whether or not we were properly prepared for this trip. I couldn’t help but laugh at the memory.”
Also this is VERY close to the post-FKT scene I narrated for my Out There episode:
“I expected to feel emotional – I expected to weep and become incredibly choked up and dramatic, but none of those things happened. There was no fanfare, no welcoming parade of overly-enthusiastic fans holding up “congratulations” banners while cheering for us. We simply walked off the trail and into the parking lot, and that was it.”
You know, when I heard your episode -- I literally thought of my own Wind River experience. I had built up this 'moment' in my mind -- and it really wasn't until later that I felt anything at all. In that moment, I was just tired. I've heard similar things from folks who have climbed Everest, etc.... that they expected this moment of existential bliss, but never got it. What's interesting about that is that it points to 'the thing' that all of us are really searching for -- the feeling is already in is to be discovered. Thanks for reading Maria, I really appreciate YOU!
Good morning in the Midwatch, Dear Anastasia,
It is indeed the Midwatch, the time of most darkness and danger for a ship at sea. I have climbed up into the Captain's Chair many times and in many oceans during the Midwatch, for Captains never really sleep. So I am even now up in the figurative Captain's Chair, unable to sleep, and deciding to read your latest Diary.
Notwithstanding my frequent comments to you about the dilution of time, energy and space, I was struck by your part this time about Jack. Now chronologically I am somewhat beyond Jack's years, but his reflection about time struck me right between the running lights. Last weekend I had my grandson Joshua and great granddaughter Eila with me in Captain's Quarters. They occupied the same accommodations that did you and Aaron when you were here. It was a time of refreshment and recollection for Josh, and a time for Eila, almost three, and Cappy to get to know one another and to build some new memories. But, and it is a big But for me, the realization of the passage of time, as did your friend Jack, was the most poignant. I will not see Eila graduate university, probably not make it to high school even, hopefully Middle School. We may make it for the negotiations over how many boxes of Girl Scout cookies will Cappy commit to, but not probably how many laps will she swim. We went together to Point Robinson Light, she collected shells for the first time, and we identified them together. One of the photographs that Josh took of the two of us was of us sitting on one of the benches out at the light and we are having a conversation. From the intensity of our expressions, it is clear that we are together solving one of the world's most serious problems. Then we went to her great grandmother Mary's gravesite, we did some cleaning and clipping together. (Mary died during the Midwatch.) It was and is important to me that even the youngest learn about the vagaries of life, to be ready when they happen to them.
At the end of our time together, at the Departure Ceremonies, I taught Eila the watchword at this place. "We never say goodbye, we say until we meet again". By this time Eila was in tears, for our time had been so rich for the three of us. But the reassurance from her Cappy that we would indeed meet again brought a little of sunlight back to her dear face. Your friend Jack captured all of this perfectly, for that time goes by so quickly, and it is to us to use it in the best way that we can. I have been given some extra years, and it is my hope that I am fulfilling that last commission.
So when I send you a signal about commitment and overcommitment, it comes to you with not only the same love that you send out to all on this circuit, but with a feeling much closer to my own crossing of the bar than yours that we use the time that is given to us in the best way.
I end this latest pontification with the same words that I wrote in every Night Order I ever wrote at sea,
If you have any doubts about calling me, call me.
Captain Joe
I value your consistency! Thank you for sharing the post.
This reminded me a bit about my dream job AMA and how I didn’t fully recognize myself in the question months later:
“I thought back to the first day, when I was having a complete panic attack about whether or not we were properly prepared for this trip. I couldn’t help but laugh at the memory.”
Also this is VERY close to the post-FKT scene I narrated for my Out There episode:
“I expected to feel emotional – I expected to weep and become incredibly choked up and dramatic, but none of those things happened. There was no fanfare, no welcoming parade of overly-enthusiastic fans holding up “congratulations” banners while cheering for us. We simply walked off the trail and into the parking lot, and that was it.”
You know, when I heard your episode -- I literally thought of my own Wind River experience. I had built up this 'moment' in my mind -- and it really wasn't until later that I felt anything at all. In that moment, I was just tired. I've heard similar things from folks who have climbed Everest, etc.... that they expected this moment of existential bliss, but never got it. What's interesting about that is that it points to 'the thing' that all of us are really searching for -- the feeling is already in is to be discovered. Thanks for reading Maria, I really appreciate YOU!