the first day of the rest

I woke up this morning with a major chip on my shoulder. {the fun kind, not the moody kind} How dare this day come already! I'm not ready to join the working professionals completely! I've so much enjoyed being a student.

I've been ignoring the question looming around the periphery I'm not ready to address. The huge question of 'now what'?

Now what?

I know I'm not expected to have all the answers to that question, which is good, because I don't ever seem to have them. I do have a plan that reaches to the new year and from there it will propel me into completely uncharted waters, if nothing gets in the way. I say that because part of the reason I've set the goal for January is to give life a chance to throw me a loop. I like the unexpected, I'm kinda used to it.

I've been thinking about the gray evening I drove the Comfort. Almost 900 feet of steel, nothing to it right? Within the first seconds of my command {I like the sound of that} I'd let the wheel spin 15 degrees off course and the Second Mate practically dove out of the control room to come rescue us all joking tersely that we'd have calls coming in from the Commodore asking what the big jolt was all about. I thought he was overreacting a bit much. I doubt anyone felt it. {I hope.}

I was given the wheel as the CIVMAR currently on duty told me over his shoulder as he left the bridge, "Just keep it 5 degrees on either side of our course and you'll be fine." He had complete faith in me that I could do this one thing for him while he ran an errand. I'd been around enough to be able to mimick what I'd seen him do for hours as we redesigned his condo in our minds back in Norfolk to pass time {ever the designer, even at sea.}

Reacting to the changing waters, the way it pushes against the ship, is tiring. Constantly fighting to correct the course was tedious. I was stressed out in the first 15 minutes and these guys did this in four hour shifts. What I quickly learned was there is a finesse to working the wheel back and forth to the rhythm of the ocean to continue in a relatively straight line. I took a step back and took a breath. No way could I ever admit defeat to those salty dogs. With determined patience I would anticipate the next move the sea would make, make a move of my own, then sit back to see how it'd go. Soon I was keeping it within 5 degrees just the way I was asked to do and really enjoying watching the horizon run on for miles ahead of me.

The reason I was thinking about that today was because the significance of setting a direction seems to be all I can think about. I can't see the straight line to travel that will lead me toward my ultimate happiness and I guess there never is one. {dangit.}

But unlike this experience where I was thrown into the situation without any idea how to accomplish what I had set out to do, I'm at least confident that I have a few options up my sleeve worth examining. That's the real test. Being in tune enough to know when the right one is right. I'm excited, I'm scared, I'm more than a little sad that this chapter is closing. I'm to the part where I don't even know where to find it in me to be enthused by the unknown. It'll catch on soon, I hope.

Until then, I'll just keep it within 5 degrees on either side of what I think to be my best path and listen for those little ques to whether or not I'm doing it right.