It seems that I don’t ever have enough “alone time” these days, so when I’m able to sit by myself I put it to good use. Although it’s sometimes difficult, I find that sitting quietly and calming my busy mind, turning down the inner volume, is something I need to do. That’s when I’m able to really think through anything that is disturbing me.

Lately, during my quiet moments, I have tried to embrace the concept of letting go. When I have worked through every possible solution, when I have done all that I can to fix what is wrong, sometimes I simply have to let it go. That’s hard for me, I realize. But I’m also learning that it is the only way to save myself. Let it go. More worrying, more biting my lip – Yes, Dad, I’m still biting my lip! – will not make the problem go away.

That doesn’t mean forgetting my responsibilities. It means that I recognize what I can affect, what I can change, what I can make better, and then focus my energies in that direction. We all worry about things that we think we can fix, when in reality we can not. Spending more time fretting about these things can only cause damage to ourselves, maybe even create a feeling that “I’m not good enough.” The truth is, we ARE good enough…we just sometimes take on more than we can handle.

Calm, peaceful, still. I am strong, I am powerful in ways that go far beyond physical strength, I am stretching my mind, my spirit, myself. What keeps me from growing will always be something that I choose to hold on to, something that I have given power to. Instead, I need to let it go.

During a break in our training at Galahad Command - those hectic days before we left Earth seem so long ago - several of us were sitting on a hillside outside our dorms. None of us wanted to say it aloud, but we were trying to absorb as much of the blue sky and fresh air as we could before…

Gap was doing his usual good job of making us laugh. At one point he said something that none of us got right away. But about three seconds later it sank in, and we all busted up again. I don’t remember what it was about now, but I do remember that Gap called it a ‘joke grenade.’

“It’s a joke that you have to think about,” he told us. “And then, BAM! It’s a joke grenade”

As I get older I realize that a lot of the wisdom that my dad shared with me is like a grenade, too. At the time he told me, it didn’t always register. But then, as time passes, and as I experience more of life, it suddenly goes off.

Here’s one example that comes to mind. I remember Dad talking to me about character. He told me his favorite definition of the word: “Character is doing what’s right when nobody is watching.”

At twelve I think I barely grasped what he meant, but as I mature a little more it begins to make sense. From observing others I see how people sometimes mask their true character in front of others. That’s often why we’re surprised by them later. We only see what they want us to see, and we do the same to them. We’re all actors, in a way.

Our character - including our values, our beliefs, our ethical qualities - simmers behind the curtain. I think I not only needed to witness this in others, but I had to mature a bit more before I could see it in myself, as well. My character is shaped not through what I want people to see, but through what goes on within my heart.

As with so many others things that I’ve begun to recognize in this last year, it’s obvious that Dad could lob his share of wisdom grenades.

(Now it’s your turn, Galahad fans. Think about that definition of character; do you see how you might - or might not - pass the test of having a “good character?” Do you find yourself only doing the right thing when other people are looking on? What if you took the next few days to quietly observe yourself and your actions. What do you think you might discover? As with all of Triana’s Journal entries, you’re invited to share your thoughts. And thanks for visiting Club Galahad!)

What defines maturity?

It’s one of those things that doesn’t have a simple answer. Today, when I heard a crew member accuse someone of being immature, it suddenly made me remember a talk I had with my dad during one of our hikes. I had probably been giving him some attitude or something, but instead of scolding me he shook his head.  He told me that I might think I was acting quite superior at the time, but in reality I was doing the exact opposite. I was as far from mature as I could get.

Over the next half-hour he opened my eyes to some things that I had never considered. I think this journal is a good place to record my memories of our ‘maturity discussion.’

Here the first one I remember. “You think you’re acting like an adult when you do the things you want to do,” my dad said. “But actually a sign of maturity is doing the things you don’t want to do.”

Of course, like most pearls of wisdom, it didn’t sink in right away. But it’s something I’ve come to appreciate more and more, especially with my responsibilities on Galahad.

When we’re very young, life is all about doing the things that we enjoy. We always want to do what we want, when we want to. In a way we almost expect the universe to revolve around our wishes and desires. It’s when you truly begin to mature that you understand all of the things that you don’t want to do, but that must be done.

This shows up in a lot of different ways. One is in taking responsibility, whether it’s property or other people. Deep down we’d rather just play, or ignore the things that need to get done, but we can’t. Someone has to be responsible. That person is usually the most mature.

Another example would be in doing the things that will actually be better for us. When we’re kids, we don’t want to think about that stuff. As we begin to mature, we learn to accept that it’s not always the easy path that’s the best. There are times we just have to do something because it’s the right thing. That’s a key sign of maturity.

I remember one other thing my dad said about this. “True maturity is when you do these things quietly, without drawing attention to the fact that you’re doing them.” In other words, if you have to announce to the world that you’re put out by doing something, but you’ll still do it anyway…well, then you’ve still got a bit of growing up to do.

So that was Maturity Lesson #1 from my dad. From time to time I’ll jot down the others that I remember.

(Okay, Galahad readers, do you have thoughts on this? Did Triana’s dad give you something new to think about? Do you remember a time when you suddenly realized that your own wants and desires had to take a back seat? Do you think you matured a bit when that happened? As with all of Triana’s journal entries, you’re invited to post your comments right here. And thank you for supporting the Galahad series!)

I met Lita and Channy for breakfast this morning, and Lita said something that made me stop and think. When Channy asked her something personal, Lita said (with a smirk): “Do you really want to know what I think about that, or do you want me to sugar-coat it?”

We’re funny that way, aren’t we? If Lita hadn’t framed it like that, I’m sure Channy would have secretly wanted the gentle, sugar-coated answer. I think by nature we all hope to hear only what we want to hear.

But when we have it positioned as “truth versus feelings,” it seems to trigger the realistic portion of our mind; it’s as if we take a step back and evaluate what really is in our best interest.

We often need the outside perspective of another person to fully see and hear what’s best for us. It’s probably one of the traits that makes us a social species, rather than lone wolves. We do indeed need each other, and this is simply another reason why.

And, for what it’s worth, Channy didn’t appreciate the truth she heard from Lita. That’s definitely another journal entry for another day…

(Okay, Galahad fans, it’s your turn to sound off. What do you think of Triana’s idea that we really do need each other in order to see the truth? Do you find that, if left to yourself, you tend to either lie to yourself about something, or pretend to not see the true answers? Do you think that your friends really want you to be honest with them all the time, or do they maybe only want you to reinforce their own feelings about something? How do you balance that? Feel free to not only post your thoughts here, but also know that you’re encouraged to share Triana’s posts with your friends. Thanks for supporting the Galahad series!)

We’re creeping up on the end of a calendar year. It seems people often use this time to do two things: reflect on choices they’ve made over the past year, and think about what they might do better.

When I was twelve, I remember a New Year’s resolution that my dad shared with me. He said: “In this next year I plan to aim higher.” I must have given him a curious look, so he explained.

He told me that it was something he learned from his own father. “Too many times we don’t give ourselves enough credit,” he said. “We set our sights low, thinking that anything else would be too difficult to reach. But, what we find is that ‘doing just enough’ often doesn’t bring us a sense of fulfillment. And, surprisingly, by aiming a little higher we find that it brings out the best in us. In fact, it brings out qualities and talents that we might never know we had.”

It was one of the few lessons that my dad repeated to me over the years, as if he couldn’t stress enough how important it was to set higher goals, to run an extra half-mile, or to study just a few minutes longer. No, I don’t always achieve every single goal…but I accomplish way more than I would if I simply settled.

No matter where we are in our lives, no matter what our circumstances, and no matter what obstacles might stand in our way, we always have the option of aiming higher. And, in the process, we just might discover things we never before thought possible. It might be the best resolution we can make.

(It’s your turn, Galahad fans. Do you aim high? Or are you satisfied with just getting by, with doing ‘good enough’? Do you think it’s connected to your confidence? Is it a trait that you’re born with, or do you think it’s a strategy that can be learned? As always, you’re encouraged to share your thoughts right here. And thank you for visiting Club Galahad often!)

The crew members of Galahad come from many nations on Earth, so not everyone was raised with the tradition of Thanksgiving. But since we’ve chosen to follow the standard Earth calendar during our journey, some of us can’t help but note the arrival of the American holiday. I spent some time last night thinking about the concept of giving thanks.

I guess most of us automatically assume that we can only be grateful when things go well. We’re all aboard this ship because of a series of tragic events, but even so it caused me to re-think the idea of giving thanks. It would be easy, I guess, to be cynical and angry about the curse of Comet Bhaktul, about what it did to our civilization, and about how it took dad’s life.

I’m sad, of course, but at the same time I have to be thankful for so many things. Human life on Earth was doomed, but so many people spent their final days working hard to make sure that we have a chance to live. I’m also grateful for my fellow crew members, and for their dedication to this mission. And I’m grateful for everything I’ve learned about myself over the past two years.

I think more than anything, though, I’m thankful for everything I learned from dad. I’m grateful for the time he spent with me. He even submitted my name to the people putting the Galahad mission together - without me knowing about it - and I’ll always be thankful to him for that.

Things don’t always work out the way we want them, and yet we’d be foolish to not find things to be thankful for. This Thanksgiving I’m aware of it more than ever.

(Your turn, Galahad fans. You don’t have to celebrate an official holiday like Thanksgiving to appreciate many things in your life. Can you think of how difficult times might also somehow provide reasons to be grateful? Have you ever set aside time to simply give thanks? Consider Triana’s observations, and see how they apply in your own life.)

The thought came to me yesterday as I sat in the auditorium, puzzling out a math problem. The same thought stuck with me throughout the rest of the day. At first it was slightly depressing, but now I see it almost as a gift. Essentially it comes down to this: there is so much that we don’t know.

It seems overly simple - and maybe it is - but yet I began to look at it from several different perspectives. First, as an individual, it can be a bit overwhelming to consider how little we truly know when compared to the infinite amount of information and knowledge that exists in the universe. During my school days in my previous life on Earth, throughout my training for this mission, then the extensive education I’ve received aboard Galahad…it seems like I’ve learned so much. But really, we can never even scratch the surface.

Then I realized that it’s not even about the total amount of information that we store; it’s more about the hunger to learn, and how well we apply what we do learn.

The interesting thing is, as I thought about this I also began to understand that this applies to all of us, as a community or a species. There’s an unspoken collective agreement within a community of people that we will each contribute our knowledge to make life better for all of us as a whole. We’re specialists, in a way, each agreeing to supply the know-how for particular tasks.

With that in mind, I also realized that the most successful civilizations likely have this same collective hunger to learn. Species that thrive on growing and learning are probably the ones that move forward. In the early days of space flight, there were some who questioned our path to the stars, while others rolled up their sleeves and pushed the boundaries of science ever outward. The work from these champions of knowledge benefited all in some form or another, and yet theirs was a thankless job. Somehow I think they were okay with that; their reward didn’t come in the form of verbal appreciation from others, but rather in the satisfaction they felt.

There is so much we don’t know. As individuals we are challenged to peck away, to continue to learn, which in turn helps us to grow. As a community we are rewarded with results from our collective education. My frame of mind has switched from being depressed, to being thrilled to know that this challenge exists. I can’t wait to see what’s next.

(Okay, Galahad fans, what do you think? Have you ever looked at your education as a gift, regardless of your age or place in life? Do you agree with Triana about a civilization’s collective desire to learn? Could it be one of the reasons why some civilizations moved forward while others disappeared? Where do you see that collective desire today? If you’d like to share your thoughts, please feel free to post them here. And be sure to tell your friends about Club Galahad!)

It seems that I often hear people talking about their comfort zone, and it usually involves a comment about trying to get “outside” of that zone. Like most people, I think I automatically bought into the idea that we should always attempt to do this, because it somehow would either bring us new insight, or simply break us out of our rut.

Yet I recall an interesting talk with Dr. Armistead one evening during our Galahad training. As the team psychologist, she loved discussing these kinds of things. While it might have been her job to pull thoughts and comments out of me, I treasured the times she would quietly share her own observations and philosophies.

It had been a long day of training, and I was feeling a bit overwhelmed by the process. When I muttered something to her about needing to break out of my comfort zone, I remember that  she smiled and said, “Not necessarily.” Although I can’t recall every word verbatim, she essentially said:

“It depends. It’s true that stepping outside the boundaries of the familiar can sometimes open up new ideas and expose us to new ways of viewing things. But, remember that our comfort zone serves a purpose, too. It provides us with a connection to our strengths, a lifeline of sorts from which we can explore. Sometimes it’s not about stepping OUT of that zone, but rather finding ways of using those strengths in new ways.”

I know that during our journey I’ve faced decisions where I could either try something completely unfamiliar, or I could rely upon the areas where I’m most confident. We all come to those crossroads from time to time, and I think it’s important that we evaluate each situation individually. I want to grow and develop, naturally; but I also want to remain tethered to my core strength, and not simply abandon that for the sake of artificially exploring new pathways.

As is true with so many things in our lives, the key is balance.

(What do you say, Galahad fans? Do you find yourself NEVER taking risks? Never stepping outside your own personal comfort zone? Or do you find yourself doing that so often that you begin to lose touch with your core strengths? Is it maybe a lack of personal confidence in those strengths that causes you to continually search for something different? What ARE your core strengths? Triana shares her thoughts with you, and you’re invited to do the same. Just post your comments here on Triana’s Journal, and feel free to share this site - and Triana’s thoughts - with friends and family members.)

Often I’ll hear someone say, “It’s not good to judge other people.” I know they mean well, and on the surface it sounds very noble. And yet my dad - one of the friendliest, most kind-hearted gentlemen you’d ever meet - taught me the exact opposite. Although it might sound backwards, it continues to help me to this day.

Dad understood that there’s a huge distinction between judging a person by their appearance or  background, and judging a person by their actions and intentions. There are so many people that we come into contact with, and it’s important that we judge their actions in order to make healthy decisions for ourselves.

For instance, when choosing the type of people we want as friends, or the type of people we hang around with, dad was convinced that we should make sound judgments based on their character. These decisions rarely can be made quickly, but given enough time and enough exposure we’re able to evaluate whether or not we want to associate with certain people. If I know someone is into abusing drugs and alcohol, or is into criminal behavior, I’m wise enough to choose not to participate with them. In that case, I have judged them based on their actions, not on something shallow and superficial.

We all make judgments every day, and that can be a good thing. It can keep us out of trouble or danger. It can help us make wise choices, rather than blindly stumbling along because we’re afraid to make a judgment call, or we’re afraid of not fitting in. As dad said, if you’re going to judge someone by their actions, be sure to hold yourself up to those same high standards.

(So what do you say, Galahad fans? Do you understand what Triana’s dad was teaching her? Can you see the difference between someone who is shallow enough to judge a person by their looks, and a person who judges people by their character? Do you agree that this is a good thing? Have you had an experience where making that judgment saved you from terrible consequences? Are you honest enough to hold yourself to the same standards you expect from others? Here’s is your chance to voice your opinions! Your comments on Triana’s Journal are always appreciated!)

I have always been very competitive, which surprises people who don’t know me well. Because I tend to be quiet and reserved, it’s often assumed that I’m either meek or a push-over. I’m not.

My dad taught me that people are competitive in different ways, but yet many times we only recognize the same competitive trait in others that we share. Athletes resonate with other athletes, successful business leaders are in tune with others in that arena, and artists are quick to appreciate the same competitive spirit in fellow artists.

When we understand that different incentives motivate different people, we’re able to get outside our little bubble and truly see people from a new perspective. While I might want to dominate on the soccer field, someone else might want to be the greatest guitar player ever. Different goals, similar competitive spirit.

However, I’ve learned that it’s possible to be too competitive. There have been times when circumstances have prevented me from accomplishing something, and yet my competitive drive wouldn’t let up; the result was often despair and self-doubt, which is destructive. I’m learning to maintain a powerful competitive spirit, but one that is mature enough to recognize limitations, to recognize obstacles that are out of my control.

Taken together, the drive and the maturity will give me a healthy balance between success and serenity.

(Okay, Galahad fans, what do you think? Have you noticed that your competitive drive is stronger in a particular aspect of your life? Is it different from some of your friends, or family members? And what about Triana’s thoughts on being too competitive? Do you agree that without a mature recognition of your own limitations you might easily find yourself too critical of yourself? Where does that healthy balance lie? Be sure to post your thoughts here, and then share  a link to this site with your friends!)