There is a phrase used to describe people, often strangers, as “ships passing in the night.” The phrase is meant to describe how fleeting the intersection of two lives can be, how briefly people we don’t know can flicker in and out of our lives.
But when I read about the Titanic, I think we can push the phrase further. Because sometimes, as you pass another ship in the night, you may hear a cry in the dark. A person in danger. A shout for help. Distress rockets and SOS signals wailing into the night. A stranger in crisis.
And in those fleeting moments as your ship passes theirs, you get to make the choice- are you the Californian, the closest ship to the Titanic, which saw the distress rockets and saw the lights on the horizon and sat and did nothing; or are you the Carpathia, turning on a dime, pushing all steam to the engines, racing to help?
We can not say for sure what caused the Californian to not help the Titanic in that night of crisis. Whether is was apathy or incompetence or fear, we don’t know.
But we know that every single soul who survived the Titanic survived because of the Carpathia. Because the crew and the passengers of that ship raced nearly 60 miles through ice fields above their maximum speed in the dead of night, readying life boats, readying triage, to pull them from the water.
So, yes, we are ships passing in the night, and when given the chance to turn away or do good, always err on the side of reckless compassion.
the GALL the absolute AUDACITY of my siblings to give me attitude when I tell them that one of them (I don’t care which one) has to get the fuck off the netflix account that I pay for because I want to watch the west wing in PEACE and no I will not upgrade to more than a 2 screen plan that shit is expensive
Hey, do you know that feeling of hitching up a long skirt so you don’t fall on your face when walking upstairs, and then you immediately become a wretched yet resolute Jane Austen character? It’s a universal thing, right?
It’s like resting a laundry basket against your hip and suddenly you’re a long-suffering peasant woman, wondering if you’ll survive the winter.
a shawl wrapped around the shoulders and you’re wandering the moors in a Brönte novel, feeling melancholic
Looking out the window at the rain and you’re a love-stricken newlywed wondering when your husband will return from the war.
Long skirt billowing behind you while to go down the stairs, you’re a proper Lady in a flowing ball gown being introduced at a fancy social function.
Hair blowing in the wind and suddenly you’re hovering on a cliff by the sea, staring out into the waves and praying your merchant husband will return from his voyage across the ocean
Hood up against the rain and wind and you’re a medieval abbess defying the weather and travelling on foot with your people to find a place to establish a new community.
Wiping your hands on your apron and you’re an 18th century kitchen girl rushing to let in the delivery boy you secretly love.
This is me like 24/7 and it’s weird
Making clicks as you walk down a cobblestone street in heels/boots and suddenly you’re an aristocrat walking through your gardens of your villa
oh, sure, when SPIDERMAN leaps from rooftop to rooftop, performing death-defying extreme parkour stunts as he swings through the city, he’s “a hero” and “protecting the city”, but when i do it i’m “illegally trespassing on private property” and “a menace to society”, THAT’S how it is, huh,
peter parker said this in civilian clothing
yours is the only funny and correct addition to this post
