The Adventure Stars Here (Part 2)

“The only way to live, to really live, is to be fully present. To feel something, we must shed our calloused skin. We must burst the bubble of our own little universe of habit and comfort.”

Seth looked at the small black notebook the counselor handed him. My adventure stars here was printed on the hardback cover next to a tiny star image.

Great. Homework. He was already spending part of his summer break to attend this group after a full year - his first year - of teaching. He certainly hadn’t been expecting to have to fill out a journal as well – although he really didn’t have anything else planned.

His eyes darted around to the others in the circle, and his gaze paused on the tattooed image of a shark. Its black eye stared out at him from the arm of a woman a few seats away.

“This task can be approached in many ways. Just open your eyes to what, and who, is around you,” the counselor said, circling behind the group. “This may begin with something as simple as leaving your phone in your pocket or smiling at a stranger.”

Meeting the gaze of the tattooed woman, Seth cast her an exaggerated, goofy smile. Her shoulders shook in silent laughter before matching his humor, shooting him a toothy grin.

“However, for the next week,” the counselor continued. “I want you to do the opposite of what you’d normally do in everyday situations. Break the old mold so to speak. Then write down your experiences.”

Absently flipping through the journal pages, Seth considered the challenge. When he thought about the summer ahead, the first that he would have without work or school, it made him anxious. The prospect of an empty apartment didn’t appeal to him. In fact, it was downright depressing.

The rest of the meeting went by quickly as the counselor discussed his self-help book, Small Steps Change Lives, and highlighted some success stories. At the end, the woman with the tattoo briefly stood and thanked him, saying that his first book had given her the prod she needed to change her life.

After the meeting, Seth walked to the nearby coffee shop inside the harbor's aquarium, hoping to process and find some caffeinated encouragement before the train home. There, he found himself in line behind the woman with the tattoo. He knew he only had moments to catch her attention before her hand would involuntarily slip into her bag and pull out her phone, like he himself was already tempted to do, like everyone else in the line was doing. But what could he say to her? Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “Hey, what's a shark's favorite type of sandwich?”

She looked over her shoulder, confused at first until she recognized him and smiled. “What? I have no idea…”

“Peanut butter and jellyfish.”

The Hipster-type with the curly beard standing ahead of the woman groaned aloud and turned to shake his head at Seth.

“Ooo, that’s bad. That’s really bad!” the woman said with a laugh.

“Sorry. I’m a teacher. Most of my jokes come from the brains of kids. But seriously, I couldn’t help but notice your tattoo. A blue shark, right?”

“Yeah, it is,” she said, now staring at him with interest. “You know your sharks.”

“I teach science. Like, did you know that more people die from selfies than from sharks? But still, everyone imagines Jaws stalking human snacks at every beach.”

“Yeah, they get a bad rap, don’t they? And they don’t deserve it,” she said.

As a customer read off a long order to the barista, probably buying coffee for colleagues, Seth pondered how to restart the conversation. He wished he had one of those table topic games for inspiration.

“What do you think about this?” he asked, indicating the notebook he held.

She drew in a breath and let it settle along with his question. With an audible sigh, she said, “I think that most men lead lives of quiet desperation.”

As she let him think about the strange response for a moment, he searched his mind for where he’d heard that phrase before.

“Thoreau, right?” he said, finally.

“Yes, Walden.”

“A child’s dream, to disappear in nature,” he said, realizing how the journal could be a sort of retreat from the disquiet of modern life.

“Yes,” she said, slowly. “But why is it only a child’s dream? Isn’t there anything still inside you that wants that simplicity and connection to nature?”

“Of course, but I’m pretty much a city guy,” he said, waving his arm to indicate their current setting. Almost on cue, a symphony of horns erupted from the traffic clogging the street. Since summer just started, tourist season was at its high point.

“So you’re a teacher?” she said. “It must be nice.”

“It’s great,” he said, knowing the answer had shot from his lips too quickly and too loudly.

“I know I’m being direct,” she said without a hint of apology. “But I noticed your face as you were listening at the workshop today. A bit of sadness? Discontent, perhaps?”

When Seth didn’t say anything, she continued, “Believe me, I’ve been there. I figured out – probably when I was not much older than you – that I was a prime example of that quiet desperation. Luckily, I had people in my life to bring that to light. One of them was our counselor today. I read one of his earlier books, so I wanted to drop in while I was in town to let him know. And I guess you must have come to a similar realization to be there today.”

He nodded, and for a wild moment he felt like he wanted to unload his worries on this stranger.

“I don’t mean to get too personal. Well, maybe I do,” she said with a laugh. “For me, today was a good reminder. To make sure complacency doesn’t grab ahold of me again.”

Seth nodded again and pointed out that it was her turn to place her order. She handed the barista a reusable cup and ordered a chai tea. Before it was Seth’s turn to order, she said, “If you have time, sit with me and we can continue our chat. I’m Susan, by the way.”

“Seth.”

Coffee in hand, he found Susan sitting at a corner table. With an awkward smile, he pulled out the chair and sat across from her. “So,” he said casually, as if sitting down with a stranger wasn’t the opposite of what he’d normally do. “You don’t live in the city?”

“No, I’m just visiting for a conference. At the moment, I’m bunkering down in the Coral Triangle...Malaysia. Hence the tattoo…” she said with a conspiratorial smile.

“Wow, so what do you do there?”

“Work with sharks. Not the blue shark. Mostly reef sharks.”

“How did you get into that?”

“It wasn’t a direct route. I started out as a corporate salesperson…believe it or not.”

With her tattoos and natural curls spiraling down her back, it was difficult to picture her in corporate dress code.

“I can still clean up,” she said, her laughing eyes challenging him to say otherwise. “But this is more me.” She kicked out her leg, indicating her printed maxi-skirt and sandals.

“Even though I was making plenty of money, which is great too, I started to ask myself what toll it was taking out of me. Not just the long hours, but the emptiness. I mean, I was good at my job, and there was initial pride in it. My family was happy I was successful, but the only person who saw I wasn’t on the right path was my grandfather. He was kind of the black sheep of the family…well, now that I think about it, I guess I took over that role.” She laughed.

“So what did he do?”

“Well, he died…”she said, sipping on her chai and waving away his extension of sympathy. “But before that, he told me that when it all comes down to it, no one will care how big your house was, what car you drove, or what career accolades you notched. People will care about how you treated them. Were you a decent human? Did you spend time with people you care about? This was all coming from someone who’d built a very successful music business. Confused, I said to him, ‘I thought you’d be proud of me.’ He said, ‘Oh, I am. Very proud. But think about this…when I’m gone from this world, what will you remember about me?”

Nodding, Seth urged her to continue.

“He passed shortly after, and you know what I remember about him the most? Gin Rummy games. Rollercoaster rides. Summer blueberry picking.”

The image of a frayed golfer’s cap hanging on the rack and the smell of shaving cream – memories of Seth’s own grandfather - entered his mind.

“It was hard… but here are the questions I asked myself after a particularly rough day trying to make quota for something I cared absolutely nothing about. Will I leave the world a better place? How will people remember me? Will my life have purpose? That’s where our counselor came in. He wasn’t doing workshops then, but his book gave me the final push to change my direction, to take chances.”

Seth took another sip of coffee, which was finally approaching a drinkable temperature.

“So why did you take today’s workshop?” she asked.

“Let’s say the past year hasn’t been the best,” he said, raising an eyebrow dramatically.

“Go on,” she said, smiling.

“Jess, my girlfriend, left me. You know, I thought she was the one. So in a knee-jerk reaction, I started over in Boston. Teaching…well, I do like the kids and respect the opportunity for impact. But similar to you, I guess I’m just considering and questioning. The old cliché comes to mind ‘You only have one life to live.’”

“It’s a cliché because it’s true. You get one shot.”

Leaving aside the need to answer his own burning questions, he felt a desire to press her more, as if the answer to life was just around the corner, on the tip of her tongue, about to be divulged to him. He asked, “What are you doing with your shot?”

“Well, I’d like to think that I’m using my talents to help the earth and its creatures. And I try to do what I can to help people, mentor them. I’m not much of an introvert, as you probably know by now. But my biggest calling is sharks. That’s it. Sharks.”

She smiled across the table at Seth before glancing at her watch. “I have to get going before my next session at the conference. Here, you may be interested in this. We’re always looking for volunteers.” She pulled a pamphlet out of her bag and pushed it across the table to him before standing up to leave. He stood up as well, and Susan grabbed his hand and held it between both of hers. “Good luck on your journey, Seth. As our illustrious counselor says, ‘The Adventure Stars Here.’”

“It was great to meet you. I just have one question, though. Why sharks?”

She looked at him with the biggest grin on her face, almost childlike, as she said, “They are completely bad ass!”

In no rush to go anywhere, Seth opted for another coffee. Back at their table, he scanned the pamphlet highlighting the plights of sharks with information about shark finning, overfishing, and habitat loss. The biography about the founder, Susan Andersen, was impressive. Not only was she actively involved in surveying sharks and educating people around the world through public speaking and lobbying, she also led a volunteer program training citizen scientists to help with shark and reef protection. But as his mind raced over their meeting, what he remembered most was how Susan made him feel – like the world was open to him again.