A Ship – ElPropósito4 min de lectura

The treasure of friendship

Photo: https://unsplash.com/photos/white-sail-boat-on-sea-during-daytime-H8t039oZe2U

Yesterday, Saturday, I went to the wedding of a classmate (and his now dearly loved wife) from my time at INCAE Costa Rica 17 years ago. It was a celebration of two people’s love, and it was also a reunion with several classmates from those days. Driving home today, with the landscape sliding past the window, my mind landed on an idea that seemed to tie it all together: the Ship of Theseus. That old philosophical puzzle asks whether a ship is still the same ship once every plank has been replaced over time. I thought about my friendship with this group and how it has changed and grown, while deep down it’s still the same.

Time has left its mark on all of us. Almost two decades ago we talked about management theory and case studies. At the wedding we talked about kids, established careers, moves abroad and the wrinkles I now see in the mirror. Each of us has replaced parts of ourselves: new priorities, new cities, new versions of who we were. Yet when we got together, something of the original ship came through intact. The laughter, the shared stories and that sense of understanding each other were the planks that never got replaced, the ones that keep the ship of our friendship afloat.

The paradox of the Ship of Theseus gets me thinking about identity. If everything changes, what remains? In the myth, the ship kept sailing because it did its job, however many new pieces held it together. Our friendship seems to follow a similar course. We haven’t escaped time or life’s storms. We’ve let the wear happen and rebuilt what needed rebuilding. Being together and bearing witness to each other’s lives has been the helm steering this vessel, even when the wind blew hard.

At yesterday’s wedding, the conversation moved between past and present as if time had never worn down the trust we once shared. We had time to swap all kinds of stories. Those old moments, like the ship’s original planks, are no longer physically there, and their mark is still in the structure. Our friendship has grown to include spouses, children and responsibilities that didn’t exist back then. The core, that sense of belonging, is still recognizable, like the ship’s original design showing through layers of new paint.

Purpose is the thread that ties the ship’s paradox to what we lived that day. I often think about how things find meaning in their function, in what they’re for. This friendship isn’t measured by how often we see each other, which time and distance have spread out. It’s measured by its ability to stay a refuge, a mirror and a shared memory. Every plank replaced in our lives has left the ship’s course unchanged, because the purpose of sailing together, even in different seas, is still intact.

Driving back today, with the sun on the mountains, I realized the Ship of Theseus is a metaphor for change and for endurance. Our friendship, like that mythical ship, rides out storms and gets repaired because something in its design goes beyond the individual pieces. At the wedding, the hugs and knowing looks needed no explanation. They were proof that the years have smoothed the edges and added new layers, and the structure still stands. It has changed in 17 years, and it’s still our friendship.

What links the Ship of Theseus, friendship and purpose is continuity. On the drive home I thought about how life replaces parts of us and of our relationships, and the voyage goes on as long as there’s a destination worth reaching. Yesterday’s wedding was a port of call where the ship docked for a while, and it showed me that the sails are different and the hull has been patched, and the essence of the voyage remains. As I write this, I can’t help thinking of Salvador and Eleana, the couple at the heart of this weekend: I wish you a life together full of calm seas, and storms that only make your ship stronger, a marriage as resilient and true to its purpose as this ship of friends that celebrated you yesterday. To my classmates, a big farewell hug, knowing we’ll meet again in some other port.

Warm regards and all the best,

Rodrigo Baccaro

Author: Rodrigo Baccaro

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