I know that I’m like most people when it comes to issues that trouble me; I tend to think of them as immense obstacles, giant barriers to happiness. And, many times, I feel that they will overwhelm me. It’s during these moments that I try to remember another of the great lessons that my dad taught me.

His love of the outdoors wore off on me, and together we shared bike rides, rafting trips, and (our favorite) long hikes. Growing up in Colorado, we had no shortage of gorgeous trails, with views of the Rocky Mountains that would take your breath away.

During one particular hike in late August, near the continental divide, we found ourselves sitting alongside a small, blue-green lake, surrounded by peaks that stretched close to 13,000 feet. They were jagged, rocky peaks, with patches of dirty ice that had never quite melted from the previous winter. We ate trail mix and bananas, and my dad listened attentively while I whined on and on about a problem that (to me) seemed insurmountable. In fact, I might have even said, “This will never go away.”

He patiently waited until I grew quiet. Then, he pointed at the fortress of rock that loomed above us. “These mountains,” he said, “are quite majestic, aren’t they?” I didn’t answer right away, because I knew that he was about to make an important point. Instead I followed his gaze to the massive rock face before us. He continued: “They tower over us, and they seem as if they’ll be here forever.”

“But look down here,” he said, and indicated the base of the slope. Littered as far as we could see were giant boulders, along with countless other pieces of rock and debris. “All of that came down from this mountain over time. Wind, rain, ice, running water; all of these things have taken this impossibly strong mountain and worn it away. You can see the results lying all around us. And, it still goes on, even today. A year from now there will be even more debris down here, eroded from the face of the cliff. Years from now, this entire mountain will be worn away.”

I looked at him and he smiled. “Do you see what I’m trying to tell you?” Of course I did. As difficult as things may seem, as massive as any problem might appear, it’s often no match for time and patience. What we think of as insurmountable is no more permanent than the Rocky Mountains. We can always overcome.

 (So what do you say, Galahad fans? Have you ever felt like a problem was so big that you would never be able to overcome it? What would you add to what Triana’s dad told her? What advice would you give to someone who was battling a difficult situation? As always, this is your chance to share your thoughts and feelings. And thank you so much for supporting the Galahad series!)

We were only allowed to bring a limited number

of personal items aboard the ship when we left Earth, and I know it was a
tough decision for many of my ship mates when it came time to select. For me,
the decision was easy: I had to bring these notebooks.

Some people need to talk out their problems and issues. I’m one of those people who prefers to journal; there’s something about putting my thoughts and emotions on paper that helps me process all of the things that are fighting for attention in my mind.

I talked with Dr. Armistead about it before we launched, and she told me that she’s the same way. To her, talking is good, but once the words are out of your mouth, she felt like they dissolved into the air, and left no record of ever being spoken, and therefore carried no weight. However, words that are written, she said, seem to carry a little more power; they are bolder, and often have more truth within them.

Personally, I believe that written thoughts require a little more bravery. It’s easy to open your mouth and spill words. But to sit down and compose your thoughts on paper requires more time, more thoughtfulness, and opens pathways to other thoughts that you might otherwise not have considered.

When I’m happy, when I’m sad, when I’m angry…the emotion seems more real to me when I’m able to write it down and explain it. And it’s comforting to be able to look back and read the journal of my life and my feelings, and know that I’m truly human.

(What do you say, Galahad fans? Do you keep a journal? If so, how has it helped you with your thoughts and feelings? When you journal, are you completely honest with yourself? Feel free to post your reaction to Triana’s journal entry, and thank you for visiting the Galahad Blog!)

At lunch this week I heard someone say ”everything happens for a reason.” It made me stop and think…and I’m still thinking about it.

I struggle with this. On one hand, to say that everything happens for a reason is a powerful incentive to learn and grow. Take what happened with Comet Bhaktul; did that happen so that the 251 of us on the ship would have the chance to discover some hidden strengths within us? Did it happen to fulfill some kind of destiny? Did it happen to give our species a new beginning, which we maybe desperately needed?

On the other hand, I feel that to throw up my hands and say ”everything happens for a reason” means I have no say in what happens to my life. Am I powerless to control my own destiny? Has it already all been written down somewhere, and I’m just playing out a scene that has already been decided? I don’t like to think of my life that way. I’d like to think I have more control than that.

I’m still thinking about it, of course, but for now I don’t think that things happen for a reason. I believe that things just happen, and how we react to them is what’s most important. I don’t think that things have been decided, that they are somehow predetermined. Tomorrow is a blank slate, and there are an infinite number of possibilities; how I respond to each one will ultimately alter the next one, and the next, and the next.

If it’s not this way, then for what reason have I been blessed with intelligence and the ability to reason? I might as well just be a mindless assortment of atoms, pushed and pulled by destiny.

(Okay, Galahad fans, now it’s your turn. What do you think about all of this? Do you share Triana’s thoughts, or do you believe that things happen for a reason? Or do you think it’s somewhere in between the two? This is a good chance for you to sit and think about things, and then share your opinions. Just click on the Comments button below and post your opinion.)

Electronic communication has been around for a long time, and I can’t deny how useful it is. Email, a term that was born with the personal computer in the late 20th century, gets a lot of use on Galahad; I know that I rely on it daily.

And yet I’m finally beginning to understand why Dr. Zimmer did not want us to carry personal communication devices on the ship. On Earth, nobody is ever alone, nobody is ever out of touch; just push a few buttons and you’re connected. I was convinced I would miss that on this mission.

Now, almost a year after launch, I realize that I haven’t thought about it in months. I have learned to rely on face-to-face communication…which I’m sure was Dr. Zimmer’s goal. We have email, and we have an intercom system. But the days of zapping an electronic message on the fly are over for us, and I’m pretty sure that our communication skills have improved because of it. If left up to us, would we have voluntarily abandoned our dependence on the old ’phones?’

This is not about condemning technology, or dreaming about returning to ’the good old days.’ It’s just an observation. On Galahad we usually are looking at the person we’re talking to; I have to believe that it helps us to better communicate with each other, and likely has eliminated a lot of misunderstandings. We have a healthy balance between electronic communicating and real personal conversation.

When we arrive at Eos I’m sure we’ll have the knowledge and tools necessary to once again take short cuts. The question is…should we?

(Okay, Galahad fans, now it’s your turn. Do you feel like your dependence on email and texting has hurt you - even a little bit - when it comes to communicating? What do you think Dr. Zimmer was really trying to accomplish? Do you think things should change when the crew arrives at Eos? Feel free to share your ideas and feedback on this journal entry from Triana, or any of the others found here on the Galahad Blog. Thanks!)

In the Dining Hall this evening I overheard two girls talking about self-esteem. I wasn’t trying to snoop, but I was alone, they were right next to me, and it was impossible to tune them out. I found their conversation interesting because of the strange turn that it took.

Within moments of talking about things they do to feel good about themselves (like exercising, paying attention to their appearance, working on their education, etc.), they fell into a stretch of gossip about another girl in their workout group. Soon they were saying some petty things about her looks and her gym routine. I’m sure neither one of them noticed the irony when it comes to self-esteem.

Maybe it’s just me, but I find that when you criticize others in such a way, it’s usually just an insecure attempt to make you feel good about yourself. Rather than focusing on improving your own faults and areas of weakness, it’s somehow easier to pick apart someone else’s. I have caught myself doing this before, and it’s only later that I realize it was a cheap way of propping up my own insecurities.

Self-esteem is important, but I think how you build it is just as crucial. Doing it at the expense of others defeats the entire purpose.

(Okay, Galahad fans, now it’s your turn. Do you have any thoughts on what Triana is talking about? Have you ever given any thought to the effect your criticism of others really has on your own self-worth? Feel free to share your ideas and feedback on this journal entry from Triana, or any of the others found here on the Galahad Blog. Thanks!)

I have read passages from great leaders who have mentioned that leadership is a very lonely thing. I have vague memories of my father talking about this, and slightly more recent experiences with Dr. Zimmer; they both pretty much said the same thing.

It’s human nature to want people to like you, to fit in, to be accepted. The very idea of protecting yourself from being an outcast goes back to our earliest ancestors; to be cast out of the clan meant almost certain death in a very harsh world.

My dad never put it in those terms, but he often spoke quietly with me about not sacrificing my values and ethics in order to temporarily placate somebody else. It’s tough enough for adults to overcome this, but (as Dr. Zimmer pointed out) ten-times more difficult for a teenager, when peer pressure is stifling.

I have been assigned the task of leading a group of people, and many times I must forcibly remind myself that my job is not to make everyone happy all the time, but to do what is right. It means often sacrificing short-term popularity, and that’s hard…but necessary.

It’s best to remember that what you are giving up IS truly short-lived; the person you have appeased will eventually move on and want you to give in again on an entirely different issue, while you must live with your decisions for the rest of your life.

Not everyone has the strength - the guts, really - to take on leadership. However, if I’m able to help even one person, to influence a decision that helps others, then it’s worth the lonely seat at the top.

(Now it’s your turn, Galahad fans. What do you think of Triana’s thoughts on leadership? Have you ever struggled with a decision because you knew it would be unpopular, yet you also knew it was the right thing to do? This is your forum, so speak your mind.)

It’s been more than six months since we left Earth behind.  Or, to be more honest with myself, it’s been six months since I fled.  That’s really what it was all about for me, and it’s only been in the last month or so that I’ve been able to fully understand that.

Dr. Zimmer knew it.  I still remember the day, back on Earth, when he sat beside me and talked about running away from problems.  Now, months later, I’m beginnng to realize a couple of things.  First, I know he was right; we can try to distance ourselves physically from pain and sorrow, but until we come to terms with the pain itself, it will always trail us like a shadow, never very far away.

Yet I’m not beating myself up over it, either, and that’s the second thing I’ve realized: it’s not necessary to criticize myself for acting upon human nature.  It’s almost natural, I’ve decided, for human beings to try to flee from problems.  Maybe it’s part of our instinctual self preservation mode.

I know I’m not fully healed from the pain I left behind on that beautiful blue planet, and who knows how long it will take, if ever.  But I’m doing better; time apparently does help, acting almost like a bandage, allowing the wound to repair itself.  I suppose that if I’m going to use that analogy, I could also say that it will likely leave a permanent scar.

But I’m okay with that.

(What do you say, Galahad fans?  Have you found that, no matter how much something hurts you emotionally, time works wonders?  More so than just trying to run away from it?  Feel free to post any thoughts you might have, and thank you for visiting The Galahad Blog.)

One of the things I look forward to during my down-time is reading.  On Galahad, our library (unfortunately) does not consist of very many real books.  It’s a space/weight issue.  So instead we have books inside our computer banks, and (fortunately) it includes tens of thousands of titles. Dr. Zimmer and his staff wanted to make sure we took most of Earth’s great history of literature with us to Eos.

The book that has held my attention for the past few days is a collection of essays, written by young people from around the planet.  What makes it interesting is both the subject, and the background of the writers.  They were told to write an essay on freedom…yet each of the kids is from a country where their freedoms are either non-existant, or extremely limited.

I was struck by their points of view.  Growing up in America, I know that I (like almost all Americans) take our freedom for granted.  We have almost dishonored our freedom by forgetting its power, by forgetting what it cost us to achieve, by forgetting that it is truly a gift.

Yet these kids brought such a beautiful perspective to the concept of freedom that I almost wept.  What must it be like to live in a world without the freedom to speak openly, without the freedom to travel where we would like, without the freedom to express and create?

On our ship, privacy is at a premium.  Obviously our ability to move about is limited, as are the resources at our disposal.  Yet each one of us is fortunate enough to know that we have freedoms granted us, that we are taking the concept of freedom to a new world.  Our crew consists of teenagers from all over the world, some of whom might be having to adjust to the notion of true freedom.

It’s up to me, and to all of us who might have taken it for granted, to never forget how precious it truly is.

(Okay, Galahad bloggers…thoughts?  Isn’t it always eye-opening when we talk to someone from a different background?  Have you noticed how they might force you to look at your own life in a new way?  Are there things you have taken for granted?  Post your thoughts.)

This evening, after a good workout in the gym with Channy and then a light dinner with Lita, I spent about an hour in my room, alone.  For the first time in months I pulled out a few of the letters that my dad wrote to me before he died.  It’s still tough to read them without crying, but as time goes by I’m finding that I’m able to see through the tears a little bit better, and I’m able to understand more of the messages that he shared.

One letter in particular stood out tonight.  Dad mentioned life balance, and I’m sure that when I read it a long time ago it didn’t sink in.  This time, it did.

So I’ve been thinking about what it means.  At first it seems rather simple, and that’s probably how I took it the first time around.  If you work hard, find time to do other things, right?  Work hard, play hard, etc.

But the more I’ve thought about it, the more it seems to resonate on a different level.  Balance is not just about devoting time to different activities; it’s about finding ways to shuffle emotional energy, as well. I tend to focus to the extreme, which Dr. Zimmer claimed was a strength.  At the same time, dad is trying to teach me to expand my energy, whether it’s emotional, intellectual, or spiritual.  Our brains are amazing machines, with so much potential at our disposal.  Too often,

I think, we only work them in one area of our lives.  That’s not healthy.  It’s a lot like one of Channy’s workout lectures: don’t always work the same muscle.  Vary your workout in order to get the most benefit.

Well, we need to vary the workout of our minds, too.  Find balance in work, relationships, creative outlets, and spiritual growth, whatever that looks like for each individual person.  Dad’s lesson has finally sunk in for me, and it’s good advice for all.

(Okay, Galahad bloggers…thoughts?  Are you taking the time to find that balance in your life?  Are you laser-focused on one or two things, and ignoring many other areas that could use some of that awesome brain energy?  Post your thoughts.)

Channy said something today that really got my attention.  She was…well, she was being Channy, joking around and getting people to laugh.  At one point she had some fun at my expense, which I probably deserved.  While everyone else laughed, I smiled for a moment and then grew quiet, like I always seem to do.

Later, when we were alone in the hallway, Channy asked if I was bothered by what she’d said.  I told her no, but that I just didn’t know how to respond.  And then she said it: “What’s there to know?  Just laugh!  It’s good for you.”

Of course I was overthinking everything, and I’m glad she called me on it.  All of us have distinct personalities (just look at the Council), and we all react in different ways to different situations.  But I know that my overly-serious side can stand to be shaken every once in a while.  Just because I hold a very serious position on this ship doesn’t mean that I have to take myself so seriously.

Channy’s right: It’s good to laugh at yourself.  It certainly doesn’t diminish anyone’s respect for you; in fact, it probably would strengthen that respect.  I’m not a clown by nature, and I don’t expect to suddenly try to out-do Channy when it comes to frivolity; but I know that I can lighten up a little more sometimes, too.  What did kids used to call it years ago?  “Chill out,” I think.

Hey, it’s good for you.  And me.

(Okay, Galahad bloggers…thoughts?  Do you take yourself too seriously?  Are you able to laugh at yourself?  Besides Triana, is there someone else on Galahad who could use this advice?  Post your thoughts.)