The Captain's Smile
A brief, yet powerful moment of connection.
Back in the days of the psychonautic adventures of my youth (🧙♂️), we’ve observed a particular kind of interaction: a brief exchange of smiles with a lonely stranger, sometime around 4am, often in the middle of what we used to call “transit zones”—vast urban spaces where you have absolutely no reason to be, unless you decided to skip / couldn’t afford a taxi and took a (very) long walk home.
We called this the Captain’s Smile.
It said: “I can tell that you’ve had a great night. I can see that you’re exhausted from partying / dancing / god-knows-what-else—I’m the same, bruv. And we both know that there’s still A LOT to walk. But hey—it’s totally worth it. Farewell, fellow Captain, fair winds on your journey.”
Back then, I associated it with never-tiring party people and drugs. As my lifestyle evolved, I’ve started exchanging the same kind of smile with different people and in different circumstances:
While taking a long walk in the middle of a tropical storm, and encountering two topless guys working out in a public fitness park.
While dancing in front of the Ocean, and seeing a juggler passing by.
While cycling up a steep hill, and passing by a traveler with a big backpack enjoying the view.
While feeling connected with myself and the Universe and meeting another person feeling the same way.
I didn’t think too much about the term itself back when we came up with it, but nowadays it makes perfect sense. To be a Captain is to exercise personal sovereignty—be in control of your body, your life, your destiny, despite the hard work needed to cultivate this state.
That in itself is a good reason to smile, but meeting another Captain means that you’re not alone.
And hey, if we can manage to bring together a fleet of sovereign individuals working together on something meaningful, that’s truly a spectacular sight.
This time the picture isn’t mine (cheers, Unsplash)—somehow I never ended up taking a similar photo. Note-to-self for my next oceanic voyage.
#MelinaUczy — dekada później.