Row Your Boat

On Friday night this weekend Reese, Thomas, Brian, and I went to see Divergent in theaters for its opening night. (First off, I LOVED IT. I read a few reviews that complained about timing, but I thought they pulled it off perfectly. Tris and Four were awesome.) Besides the great movie, I got to sit next to Thomas, a great friend, and had a quick conversation that had me thinking about it long afterward. Thomas is one of those people from my college years who has the gift and talent of friendship. This kid will always be a good friend to people, and that is truly a cool kind of person. He asked me, "How's it going?" And I said, "It's fine, you know." And he said, "But yeah, how are you really doing?" And that of course, was the question that got us into the conversation. The one that always comes up when you ask one another, after college, how are you really doing?

We laughed about that question and came up with this kind of funny metaphor for our lives, and somehow Titanic seemed to fit. We spent four years in college, living fun lives, going to parties, making plans, sleeping in, and wasting time. We were on the big boat, without a care in the world. Then graduation hit, the boat sank, the party was over, and off we went into the dark, deep unknown. Each on our own little lifeboat. The friends we had aren't living next door or in the bunk below you, the workload has quintupled or sometimes septupled, and the schedule of working more-than-full-time is overwhelming. You stay in touch with your friends as best you can, by the little ways, but those little ways often include the social media methods, giving you the idea that other people are glamorously, beautifully, joyously, richly, living their lives to the fullest as free, happy, young twentysomethings. It's easy to look at all that from your little lifeboat and feel like you're the only one in a big, scary ocean.

 But then, Thomas pointed out that, from his perspective, he saw me doing things like moving to the city alone, working in a crazy career, all while going to grad school, which made it seem to him like I was being brave and living an exciting life. It made me remember two things. First, it made me remember that not everyone sees the piles of unfinished laundry, the empty refrigerator, and dark circles under my eyes like I do. Second, it made me remember to give myself a break, to remember that sometimes I am brave, and to keep on keeping on. My life's not perfect, but it's happening! It's going! Things are moving along, I'm learning, I'm working, I'm serving, and I'm making small little accomplishments along the way. Don't let yourself forget that, Anna.

I think we can all give one another a break. Not everyone is always glamorous, happy, or in a room full of friends. Everyone has a bad day and everyone is figuring out this whole working world thing. Everyone's rowing along in their own little lifeboat, just like you. I also think we can give ourselves a break. Unfinished laundry can mean making up new outfits, empty refrigerators can mean some fantastic Thai takeout, and there's always concealer for those under-eye dark circles from the lack of sleep. Give grace to one another and give grace to yourself. 

Because we aren't on the big boat anymore. We aren't living in the illusion that next weekend or the next party is all that there is. We're in our little lifeboats now, but it's better this way. I'd rather live this life out in the deep dark unknown, rowing along, not because it's always glamorous, but because it's real. It's no longer a frivolous life, and it's no longer boringly superficial. Finally, out on this lifeboat, life has become a little more significant.

We have to keep on rowing our boat. And I suppose even if we fall overboard from time to time, then we'll have to just keep swimming. Off into the waters, moving forward and making waves.