Behind my desk in my office at work, I have an 8x10 inkjet printout of an iceberg. Recently, I also changed the main photo on this blog to that of an iceberg. For some reason, icebergs give me a feeling of peace and calm and so I've decided to explore that today.
As I recall, it started in a moment of frustration at work a couple of years ago. It seems to me, that there are lots of those moments of frustration, at what point do moments stop being moments, and are just "the way"? Anyhow, I was joking (78% joking, 22% serious) that instead of working, I'd prefer to just float away on an iceberg for awhile. Eureka moment! That was where it began.
The idea of floating away on an iceberg gave me those relaxing, electrical goosebumps like what you get when someone gently kisses your neck. My eyelids drooped a bit; suddenly I was visualizing myself on that iceberg and it wasn't nearly as cold as you'd think!
About the size of half a soccer field, there are enough peaks, crevices, crooks and crannies to explore and become familiar with, but it's not so big that I could permanently lose my toothbrush somewhere. Like all things, it would eventually be found and my oral hygiene would continue to be somewhere between mediocre and fine. There is a nice flat section were I can pitch my tent and set up a small camp area. Obviously, I carve a nice bench for myself into the iceberg for reclining. There's a nice little ice cave that I determine to be my bathroom for the duration of my trip, and since so much of an iceberg is underwater, all my waste will be collected far from my camp and frozen in a lower chamber of the cave without entering the ocean. Pretty smart huh? I picked a good iceberg and with that, I flowt away onto the mysterious ocean tides, letting myself drift where fate takes me.
I imagine that the iceberg, is cool but comfortable. It's quiet, there would be no other life on it except for myself and the occassional penguin that drops by for a visit. All I would hear is the creaking and gentle cracking of the ice shifting itself around, the odd pop of an air bubble in the substructure of the berg. The gentle lapping of waves is a peaceful and soothing sound that helps me fall asleep every night, as they delicately break against the iceberg under a limitless sky of ink black night airbrushed with more stars than you have ever seen before.
I will admit, I do not know much about ocean currents or "icebergology", but that doesn't really matter, does it? The ocean currents will take my iceberg where it needs to go, affording me views of magical coastlines and the occassional stop near a beach. The ocean will provide food, I can always drink pieces of my iceberg for hydration needs, and it will be, by far, a much cheaper option of sailing around the world over the purchase and maintenance of an actual boat.
So during a "moment" of frustration at work, I stare at the picture of my iceberg and I allow myself to imagine where I might float to and whether or not there will be a place to hang my hammock.
I think I will name my iceberg: Delilah.
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