Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Reflections of Europe

Reflecting back on our European adventures this past May, I find it curious how expectations can really get in the way...


Our first day in Brussels was a bit rough. I think we were all tired and a bit cranky and getting on each other’s nerves quickly. We got settled into our hotel, explored a bit of the surrounding area, and then had a welcome meeting with our tour director followed by a multiple course dinner. I was so tired I struggled to keep my eyes open during the introductions. Everyone was very kind and several people tried to pull me into conversation, but I wasn’t very engaging or much of a conversationalist at all. I tried to be as polite as I could be, but inside I felt miserable and desperately wanted to flee.


You see, it wasn’t what I had imagined it would be like. It was quite different, and my expectations were quickly dashed, and reality crept in. The bottom line was that everyone in our group was much older than I was. The majority of them had been married for longer than I had been alive. They were grandparents and many of them were great grandparents. I wasn’t sure what to think. I didn’t have anything in common with these people and wondered what I had gotten myself into! Would I have anyone to talk to?


But one good night of sleep did wonders on my psyche. I woke up determined that I was going to see and experience as much as I possibly could on this trip. I was going to enjoy every minute with my parents and my aunt. I wasn’t going to grumble or complain because things weren’t quite what I had imagined they would be. I was in Europe, for goodness sakes. This is where I had long dreamed of being, and here I was. I refocused myself, embraced the reality and felt much more invigorated and ready to have my own adventure, and boy, I sure did.


I became enchanted with Brussels and some of that old world charm thawed my disappointed heart. And I promptly found myself conversing with my fellow tour members and getting to know them despite our age differences, and surprisingly, I discovered many kindred spirits. Dick and his wife Audrey were incredibly sweet and warm. Dick and I would take turns pointing out good photo opportunities to one another and rushing around to get the perfect shot. George and Marilyn were another couple that I quickly grew fond of in Brussels. He kept me laughing and guessing at what he would say next, and Marilyn was a delight to watch as she kept her husband George in check.


And once we got on the cruise, it was quickly noted that I was “the baby” passenger on board, but I didn’t mind. I just grinned, laughed and went with it. In one sense, I think the great age difference between myself and most of the other passengers gave me a sense of freedom and relaxation. I didn’t have to be “on” all the time or act a certain part. I wasn’t out to impress. I could be as silly, frivolous and animated as I wanted to be. In fact, the more personality I exhibited, the better. It wasn’t an act or a ruse. No performance was needed. I just let my extroverted side out and no longer cared who saw me being myself.


I made friends quickly. I became known as “the girl,” and this girl didn’t know a stranger. I started conversations on my own without imagining what others were thinking of me. I sought people out. I would see 1 or more people standing off to the side on their own, and I would approach them with a friendly: “Hi there. I’m Melanie.”


I became “the photographer” – repairing or adjusting camera settings for people, jumping in and offering to take pictures, asking people to pose for my own camera, insisting on group shots, etc.


I became a motivator, encouraging people along and practicing patience. I tried to keep track of those in need of special care in our group, and I would make sure they didn't get left behind.


I got to know the staff and crew as well. I learned names, figured out who did what, asked lots of questions and joked with the serving staff. I exchanged sarcastic comments with the tour guides and learned quickly that sarcasm is not just for the British or American persona.


But who was this girl? Who was this carefree stranger? She was fearless. She was real. And I’m trying to keep track of her even now...I don't want to lose the joy and passion of just living that I experienced for those 3 full weeks. I want to discard the mask altogether and be the crazy, vibrant, energetic person GOD made me to be. I was in my element there on that boat, amongst those dear people, and it felt good.


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