I got up late following the Pembroke Formal last night. Groggy, a bit subdued, I prayed a short prayer asking for enough grace to make it through today. Been feeling really off the ball in the past 36 hours. It's been a whirlwind of events, kicking off with -
Sunday's rowing meeting followed by Hall;
Monday's 'surprise' picnic (thanks Janice!!)in Clare Gardens, Graduation Photos and Senior's Farewell at fellowship
Tuesday's practice 'bung' starts for bumps and our last CG Formal at St. John's
Wednesday's over-bump (good job Caius!) followed by another Formal at Clare Hall that lasted until 1.30 am
Thursday's early morning crew breakfast, a row-over, Pembroke's last black tie B.A. Dinner followed by some amazing jazz
and Today.
[. . .]
I never realized just how provisional God's grace is - in good times and bad. Even in the bad, He is there, and more often than not, that 'bad' is in preparation for something 'good' derived out of lessons you were willing to learn prior.
I love coxing. Early mornings and being part of a team has added so much to my life. I have learned so much from both boat clubs (Clare Hall and Caius), deepened many friendships, and found so many parallels to life itself, taking inspiration from the way we navigate the river and love the people on it - those inside the boat.
It's had its difficulties though, and as of late, I've been struggling with one of the strongest personalities in the boat (a girl from the W1 boat). Leader of the pack, she sets the tone for my outings and my days fluctuate between being good or bad depending on how she decides to rate me in her book that particular day. And I know that we're supposed to develop thicker skins, to learn not to say sorry when it's not our fault, but some things never change. But I'm learning, and I acknowledge the fact that it's a progression and not a leap. Growth takes time. It takes encouragement.
Yesterday I made two mistakes and came home crying. I focused on '2's technique and got caught up in the heat of the race and blurted out 'C'mon two; what do you think you're doing?'. I also overestimated how far away we were from the boat we were chasing and the glances and comments under 6's breathe was enough to make me walk home with my tail hanging between my legs. I felt so small and so curled up in my bed crying and napping for the next hour before having to get ready for formal.
I woke up to a wonderful email from my housemate (she's #7 in the boat) who I believe God used to speak to me. She pointed out the reality of the situation - that our boat got a little big headed the day before from the over-bump and that it was unrealistic to think ourselves as a 'blades crew' (you get blades if you manage to bump every single day) when we had hardly put in the land-and-water training needed. We had barely rowed in the past two weeks due to the girls' exams. Pembroke was rowing more efficiently and so managed to pull away from us. But she wrote: 'It's a success. I am the happiest person the days we don't get bumped and a little happier the days we bump.' It was like God coming down and giving me the hug and 'chin-up girl' I needed. And then #2 and I exchanged emails, apologies, and hugs last night and yesterday. I learned to channel my energy positively, always encouraging, always uplifting. It seems like a no-brainer but it was really something I didn't know before and needed to learn.
Then Today.
WE rowed-over (rowing over means that you don't bump but also don't get bumped from behind so it requires incredible stamina to make it through the entire bumps course) again today but the context was different and I am so proud of my crew. Our powerhouse #6 crabbed early at the beginning of the race - her seat coming off the sliders - and hurt her hand badly. Our crew pulled it together though and we managed a row-over with just SEVEN rowers. It was truly amazing. We pulled away from Christ's who was chasing us with SEVEN rowers (that's incredibly difficult when you've sat in a boat before - the timing gets thrown off and it's like dragging an anchor through the water while trying to race). But yesterday's lesson helped me to know exactly what to say during this race. I know I would've said the wrong things had yesterday not happened. So God gave me the exact words and we were able to make it through as a team, cheering each other on, pulling through for #6. Decisions were quick and snappy and we didn't hit any trees, boats or banks. Coxing has forced me to make fast decisions, to look after the crew, to guide and steer them to success and I'm just so thankful for how it's been translating into my own life outside of the boat. It makes me brave.
[. . .]
Today is a new day and God is good. All the time. Clare Hall's Formal was amazing - full of great food and greater people. I was blessed enough to sit beside a father figure of Janice, a man in his 40's who has taken a sabbatical to complete his PhD here. A man just four degrees away from the President of his country, he has all the reason in the world to boast. And yet he is the humblest man I have ever met. He speaks not just in sentences but in proverbs and paints analogies to life you would have never thought about. People like that make you humble. People like that make you want to be better. People like that remind you of all that you should be as a disciple of Christ. 'Wear your success uncomfortably' a pastor from fellowship cautioned a few weeks ago (we were looking at the example of Daniel). We should always be aware of who we are in relation to Christ.
We talked about the both the good and bad of Cambridge and how to retain your sanity and most importantly, individuality within such a highly insular community. For himself, he likes to take 5 hour drives to places up north like the Lake District and this allows him perspective and moments to breathe. We also agreed that trips out to London give one life and energy. My favorite moments have been walking on Millennium bridge when the sun reaches high peak over the Thames. Absolutely gorgeous. Embankment takes your breath away.
I told him about my three best friends - what Janice would call 'pocket people' - and how we spend about 6 hours each week cathing up with each other. It warms my heart to think that these people have been with me for over a decade and yet I am aware of the imperfections within these relationships too. There are times where I anticipate questions about my life that never come, where I want to tell stories that are never prompted. When you live this far apart and your lives are that different, you need to talk about more than the people back home or the things in your past. To grow, I think you need to move conversations to ideas and beliefs, to the feelings of moments. In addition, you need to construct a narrative for the other to enter in, but before you can do that, you need to know that they (in Britain, we're allowed to use the third person pronoun for the neutral singular) actually want to be a part of that narrative.
Many thoughts and am still thinking.
At the moment, I'm trying hard not to be saddened by the good-byes that will come in waves over these next few days. At present, I'm compiling a website of pictures, of moments, anticipating those requests should they one day come.
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