Martha's Vineyard: April 2007

Monday, April 30, 2007

Alaska...fuck yeah! Part 1

I currently find myself in the midst of some exotic travels. This time, my itinerary has taken me to the last frontier of America...Alaska. The home of the forget-me-not, king crab, and glorious mountain ranges as far as the eye can see.

I knew that my trip to Alaska would be a spiritual awakening of sorts, but I never realized on how many levels or in how many domains it would occur. I feel as though this trip has been a part of a divine master plan from the beginning. The University of Alaska-Anchorage asked me to speak at their undergraduate research conference about the research that our lab does on self-objectification (although, this was *after* my advisor declined the invitation...but who's counting?). This invitation came only a month after my good friend B notified me that he would be leaving Anchorage (he's lived there since we graduated college) in mid-May to move to Seattle and that I should make every attempt to come visit Alaska before then. So, it was perfect timing that the UAA offer would allow me to travel to AK to see my friend before he left for the lower 48.

So, first things first. In true Martha fashion, I have decided on a quote to describe my travels. I have decided that the following quote (adapted from the movie Team America) best explains how I feel about everything I have been doing in AK: "Alaska...fuck yeah! Coming again to save the motherfucking day...yeah!" As my friend B will tell you, I have said it non-stop since I got here. You just can't help but be in awe of the landscape here, of the lifestyle, of the fact that this is such a precious jewel in our country.

The first part of my spiritual awakening in AK has been in being completely humbled by the physical beauty of this state. You cannot help but be acutely aware that the world is so much bigger than just oneself when you are dwarfed by gigantic, rugged, powerful mountains on all sides. Here it seems that the mountains take on a life and personality of their own. They are complex and seemingly unknowable--they are snow-capped, yet support plant life near the base. They are complex and multi-faceted with so many crevasses that no human could ever know them all. They are majestic and beautiful...perhaps most so at night when they glow against the horizon. There are dramatic cliffs that lead down to vivid blue water. Everywhere you turn, there is another example of the beauty that nature creates--a beauty that humankind just cannot replicate on its own. Just when you think you can't see another breath-taking image or that mother nature just cannot out-do herself--bam!...you see yet another amazing view. At several points in my travels, I have literally been surrounded by mountains on all sides, where it seems that I might never see flat land again. I simply cannot put into words the power of these views. If God has ever been present on land, it is in these views.

Alaska...fuck yeah!

Sunday, April 15, 2007

You sunk my battleship

I guess that I just have this overwhelming tendency to see aspects of life in terms of metaphor.

It seems that a recent reoccurring metaphor in my life has been viewing dating and relationships in terms of a strategic series of maneuvers, similar to those involved in the game Battleship. You know the game--your job is to sink enemy ships by calling out the coordinates where you think your opponent's ships are located. You need to bomb strategically in order to be as efficient as possible in winning the game.

We each come to the game of dating with a battleship. Some of us have battleships that are on their maiden voyage--new and healthy but somewhat naive to the waters ahead of them. Others have battleships that have logged many miles and have considerable experience, but which have suffered damage or are in various states of disarray from their travels (read: relationship baggage). Regardless of whether they're brand new vessels or veterans, we all hope that we have ships that are sturdy enough to weather the potentially rough seas ahead.

So, assuming that our ships are at sea and are trolling for action, so to speak, we each come prepared with some general ideas of how best to play the game. Regardless of whether these are intuitions, rules of thumb, or just plain trial and error, we all have some strategy that we think will help us stay afloat. When we play the game of Battleship, we each certainly have a strategy that we think will help to sink our opponent's ship--whether that be the random selection of coordinates or a more deliberate attack. I never really thought about my own strategies until someone recently asked me what my "tricks" are in dating. He wanted to know if there are things that I do consciously to make my likelihood of success greater, whether that be protecting my own battleship or maneuvering into another's territory. I hadn't really considered how we each come with strategies for where we want to take our ships and how we decide when to sail in tandem with another vessel or even throw out our anchor to stop and enjoy the scenery for awhile. This made me think about how the strategies we use are so important and seem to be so pivotal for the outcome of our dating life. Some of us are flawless strategists--we always have our poker face on and are concerned with protecting our ship from attack. However, others of us may be good strategists, but we focus on gaining access to peaceful waters rather than protecting the ship at all costs. Still, others have less refined strategies and just go where the water takes us, perhaps making us more vulnerable. It seems then, that it *is* important to be able to read your opponent and understand his/her strategies. Perhaps it's necessary to find the opponent whose strategy matches or complements one's own in order to find success.

An important question arises, however, in the battleship game of dating--What are we battling over? I've found that a lot of the problems in executing effective dating strategy arise when the players either a) simply don't know what they're playing for or b) have different ideas of what they're playing for. Maybe you think you're playing the casual dating game where you want to meet interesting people and have fun, but your opponent thinks you're playing for keeps, playing to link your ships and sail the seas together. If there's a discrepancy between what you and your opponent are playing for, there will certainly be a discrepancy in what each of you are willing to bring to the table. And that means that one person will inevitably be more vulnerable to attack.

Even when we're on the same page about what it is that we're playing for--for most of us, that's probably our heart--it takes a lot of maneuvering to make things happen. In my experience, I feel like relationships are this constant assessment of your vulnerabilities and investment in the relationship relative to the other player. We want to be engaged in the relationship, but not *too* into it. We want to share ourselves with others, but we fear that we'll give away too much and we'll be vulnerable to an attack on our hearts. I'll admit it--it's fucking *scary* to navigate in unfamiliar relationship waters. We all fear that our ship will suffer damage. Sometimes it takes docking in the harbor of singlehood in order to repair from rough relationship waters, but I certainly fear that I could suffer damage that I may not ever be able to repair.

So, it seems that I have a lot of choice in all this. I can keep my ship in the safety of the harbor, knowing that it will remain strong but will never experience the freedom of the open sea and the comfort of finding a ship to share in its voyages. Or, I can venture out into unfamiliar waters and risk being attacked. I guess I just have to trust my navigational skills, know that my ship (I've named her Martha V, of course) is strong enough to stay afloat despite rough waters, and hope that I never have to hear myself say "You sunk my battleship."