Plettenburg Bay |
I attended a bachelor
party. Yes, me, a girl. I
witnessed a man in the last throes of single hood. I also witnessed a man being sentenced to death row. It was
the same party.
That’s the thing about
traveling. The unexpected always
happens, and sometimes you brush up against, not just other people traveling, but
also other people in the midst of living their lives. I was in Plettenburg Bay, South Africa when I went up to
the rooftop of the back packers hostel I was staying in, to see what I could
see. Up top was a bar filled with hilarious men in the midst of preparing and
‘pre gaming’ for a bachelor party. They’d left the girls behind and brought
all sorts of provisions for the evening to beat all evenings; intentioned to be
the last fun night out the groom would have for the rest of his life. As I
observed (and accepted an invitation to join them in a round of celebratory shots) I pondered
where that meant he would find his fun from now on, and what form it would take.
I didn’t know anything about
this man or the woman he was marrying, but I couldn’t help but wonder how much
of themselves they were about to give away. Love can be tricky. How do you
maintain who you are and at the same time, compromise for the sake of the
relationship? Often we relate to each other in certain ways simply because at
some point, in the early stages, it became fixed as a habit. Rhythmic patterns of
behavior are formed without us even realizing, and before we know it, we are operating
on autopilot. Never reevaluating the validity. So in the early days how do you
know how much of yourself to give up, and how much do you fight for before the
grooves are too deep? Do you always have to give an arm and a leg?
On this journey I have been
living with a clamor of voices inside my head. A thousand wars have been waged
in my mind with the voices of the past. Which is mine? I have layers of all types of relationships in my life and they combine to make me who
I am today, for which I am grateful, but what of that needs to be discarded now
and what should be reserved? I dove right into that compromise at such an early
age, as I was standing on the brink of adulthood and I have never lived without
it, until now. I am finally beginning to break through the muddle, though. Me. The authentic me bursts forth periodically giving me a taste of the possibilities for my life and
it is glorious and fulfilling, a balm on my heart. I know now this is who I am supposed to be. Me.
Earlier that morning I’d left my bed
unmade. The sheets were all
rumpled and the pillows tossed aimlessly.
I just looked at them, staring, without moving. He always implied it was lazy not to
make the bed. I was always trying
to prove my value and my worth because I was a stay-at-home mom. Adding lazy to the fact that I didn’t
bring one thin dime into the household wasn’t something I could live with. I realized though, this is my life now
and I can be lazy if I want to. Really, what does that even mean? It’s so subjective,
and I’ve built my life around NOT being it. What may be lazy to one person may
not be to another, and what is wrong with being lazy once in a while? Americans have built a billion dollar
industry trying to go on vacation to be just that, lazy. If I choose to leave my bed unmade in
this lodge, on this day, does that make me less of a person? Could this be a
small step in the healthy dismantling of perfectionism and over compensation in
my life? One more glance at the disheveled
mess on my bed and I headed out the door, guilt free, to swim with 3000
seals.
Along a northern facing rocky
shore lives a colony of thousands of brown fur seals. The thought of an
opportunity to swim among them was exhilarating. The thought of jumping off the boat into the water at 15 degrees Celsius,
on the other hand, was terrifying. I joined a group of people from Sweden and our
guide explained it like this:
“When we get into the water we
will stay beside the boat. For two
minutes I will monitor each of you and make sure you are ok before we head over
to the seals. The water is so cold
you will feel as though you cannot breathe. Actually it does take your breath
away. Work through it, because your body will acclimate at about the two-minute mark. Do you understand?”
He was looking at them, but I was
the only one with a dumbstruck look on my face. What the cuss?! Have I mentioned
how much I hate to be cold? Ugh, the proverbial bad with the good. Its kind of like going to the doctor as a kid.
You’ve got to take the shot before your mom gives you a treat at the end.
“Ok,” I said to myself. “Let’s
do this.”
I jumped into the water and as
I came back up, I found myself gasping for shallow breaths of air. I was
immediately numb. I had never
experienced anything like this before.
Our guide checked in with each of us and sure enough, after two very,
very long minutes, which I thought would certainly be my last, my body suddenly
relaxed. I never would have believed it was possible. Then came the treat… curious baby seals swimming over to say
hello. Mothers and fathers
followed and soon we were surrounded by hundreds of them diving, rolling, and
communicating with each other through loud calls. It was as though we'd been invited to a huge happy party. Their playfulness was beautiful. Becoming a human popsicle was well worth the prize.
When I got back to my room that evening, my bed wasn’t made. The room looked unkempt,
disorganized and sloppy. I didn’t
like it at all. Not one single
bit. Even the sheets didn’t feel the same as I slipped into bed. I decided, ‘Tomorrow
I will make the bed when I arise, and the next day, and the day after that...’ This time though, I own it, it’s mine. And
as for the groom, I think he has the right idea. It appears he has decided only to give up an arm.
I asked all the guys what he was supposed to do
with that arm next week as he walked to the altar.
With surprise they looked at each other, shrugged, and said,
"We don't know. A toast to the drinking arm!"
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