When despair for the world grows in me, and I wake in the night at the least sound in fear of what my life may be -- I go and lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water... I come into the presence of still water. And I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting with their light. For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and I am free.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
life in a book
Sometimes I wish my life was like a book. That way when I feel like I do right now, I could just curl up in a big chair with a blanket and observe it quietly. I could turn the pages, one by one or in big sections. I could reread my memories and pick out little details, like picking up little shells on the beach to keep in my pocket. But mostly, I wish this so I could peak ahead, to see little glimpses of what is to come. Not like some people do; actually reading all the end first. No, that takes all the mystery out of it. But I mean reading a couple lines on one page, then skipping ahead and reading several more. I want to just pop around and see little snippets of my life that I don't know yet. What might happen? Who might come into my story later that I don't know yet and who will they be? Who might exit and who might stay?
I feel like I see most of my life in tunnel vision, only seeing my own thoughts and feelings. But so many other people's lives interact, effect and are intertwined with mine. Shouldn't I get to see their parts of the story in mine as well. If my life was a book I like to think I could do that. Maybe I could read someone else's story for awhile. Someone else's chapter. What is it like to be them? What do they think and feel as they lay in bad at night waiting to fall asleep? I want to get a glimpse of someone else and understand them they way I do myself, or let them remain a mystery, I am also to myself at times. I'd like to be able to turn to a page and find these things, even if it's just one little scene from their life that might find it's way into mine.
If I could sit down in a coffee shop with my life in a book, I could peruse through it casually. Just as I might peak ahead in a novel to collect little clues and details. As I said, I don't want to spoil it for myself. But, I like to know what to look for. Have an inclination about what is important, what to pay attention to or, conversely, what to put aside or just ignore. Which will be those little details, little memories, that I will want to collect and hide away just for myself like sea shells collected at the beach?
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