"I have to say the words, describe what I'm seeing. . . but if I want to notice the lesser cataclysms of valley life, I have to maintain in my head a running description of the present. It's not that I'm observant; it's just that I talk too much. Otherwise, especially in a strange place, I'll never know what's happening. Like a blind man at the ball game, I need a radio."
-Annie Dillard, from Pilgrim at Tinker Creek
One of the ways I know I have to think, write, and reflect in order to survive is when I come across a quote like this and almost feel like the author stole a page from my own journal. Survival? Such a strong word to follow such an ordinary and what's often considered overly introspective pastime: journaling. But to some of us,(and I would like to know where the others are) it's like breathing.
This intuitive process can be selfish indeed, especially when the thinker/writer gets too comfortable in words and not so fond of the real and imperfect human race to which they belong.
Space cadet? Focused? Aware of one's actions? All ways of defining self-aware.
But what is the awareness really good for unless the owner is capable of experiencing reality (this means, at it's greatest point, being what one was created to be and loving others the way they should be loved) instead of nestling behind the crisp pages of a leather-bound notebook?
For me, it's like getting my bag ready for trip, and every day is like a new one with never enough planning to do. The fact is, I don't enjoy planning, but the process will always help me remember the trip better; I saw the map, I took the pictures, and had the long conversation that made all the monuments and long lines worth it all. I interacted with my world before it had a chance to pass me by and forget me...and I forget it.
Ironically, the happiest times in life are those days when we find ourselves lost in the day, the minutes flying by with the fun, and we are usually laughing. I only hope to have twenty minutes before be to record it all, so maybe, just maybe,I could repeat it all over again if I just remembered how it happened.
But I guess that is what heaven's for.
"Ah, but a man's reach should never exceed his grasp."
-Robert Browning
Moments in the Blur
9 years ago