Monday, August 27, 2012

It is a Sunday, and I wanted to find my disjointed thoughts in front of me. For me.

There was an old wicker bird cage, canary yellow, that sat on some unnecessary piece of furniture in a lovely, but unnecessary room we fittingly dubbed the "Sun room".   A dusty, pretty stage for moments to play on.  Cast by my mother, directed by my father, written by whatever.  The cage was fragile and curious and never held a bird.  The room itself was fragile, curious, and could never hold the sun.  But, ah, how they held us.  Transfixed our eyes with their shapes and the way the light lavishly slid across it all--so convincing they had a purpose, a necessity, and we were convinced.  And we are still transfixed.

Time is intricate, right?  Well, she has the ability to be.  She is so natural at trickery.  She is lulling, she is comforting, she is terrifying.  Time is debatable but fixed.  She is a piece of art nailed to a white-washed wall, open to all interpretations but solid in her own state.  So really, she is everything and nothing, so, everything.   She is as much or as little of a necessity as the wicker canary cage and the Sun-room.  Time is a stage, and we can chose to have a hand in her performance, or we can watch, as she dances around us.  

At this point in Time, I know less about life then I ever have.  I know almost nothing about what things are.  Things like time, reality, friends, love, responsibility, loneliness, fears, strength, courage, emotions, sex, pain, elation, family...nothing about what these things are.  Of course, I constantly use analogies for all of them, and usually discuss them with some sort of well-shaped opinion, but that is in convenience  for everyday conversation.  I've known life, at one point.  Then I learned a few things, and now,  I'm thinking that all of life is no different then myself in that things constantly change, every moment.  So, oh!  Oh, oh look, there's that--I know change pretty well.  But I do not wish to know life, fully.  Not now.  That seems limiting.  What would I have left to discover?  To know nothing is so incredibly interesting to me.  Fascinating.  I strive to be fascinated with everything.

From now on, what I say I know, I know I do not know fully: I know enough to understand.  To know is beyond us, but to understand seems incredibly human.  To know just enough that we can relate to one another, to the point of knowing each other.  

I wish I could know you.  You must have so many wonderful caverns in your mind.  Simple and straight or curved and dark, light, bright, pale.  Thoughts that are caked in the dirt of the past or dreams that gleam brilliant as steel but are equally as unapproachable.  Memories in boxes on shelves with candles and musical and antique banks with bears and painted iron because why now--your mind can be anything.  I wish I could know you.  Instead, I will try and understand you.  Your looks and your eyebrow raises.  Your hand movements.  Your pauses.  Your choices.  The way you stand up, open a door, look at a note, look at yourself, look out a window, look at me.  The way you are curious.

If I do not try to know you, I will not fully know myself.  To try and know a person should be more enlightening, more educational then any book or other tool.  We meet a different world of experience with every handshake.  Every person is an opportunity to know life.

Please, let me know you.  
 



 



5 comments:

  1. You handle thoughts with such delicate beauty and grace; you handle my thoughts with yours.
    Thank you for your whispering magic, you will always inspire me with it
    x x x

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  2. Very interesting. I myself have been pondering the difference between knowing and understand. I eventually came to the revelation that true happiness comes from understanding, while knowing seems to taunt that there is always something else to know; but understanding provides contention in its purest most innocent form :)

    I am very bad at communicating my thoughts, but I hope you caught the most of that!

    As always, I love hearing your thoughts and ideas, thank you for letting the world get to know you :)

    -Zach

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  3. What does it mean to understand? In its most simplest form, I suppose it's the ability to relate. To project those feelings and emotions you encountered when you experienced a similar change. To place those moments in your own life and fit them over this other, incredibly intricate, person. Could it be that we're too bold in this overly human assumption? That our experience while encountering the same variables of change is somehow the same as another's. Isn't that delta between reactions what defines us? What separates the man who kisses his future wife from the one who is too shy, or proud, and just walks away. That exact moment of resolution in ourselves.

    I remember when my college philosophy professor told us about the theory of color. While far more complex than one can grasp in a single class, he presented us with a single question "what makes your green my green?" He proposed that it is impossible to determine absolutely that what I see as green, is what you see as green. What if my green is your blue? Such a simple question yet it causes such great reflection on what we actually know. Is it possible to truly know anything outside of our own minds? It is both harrowing and liberating. Perhaps that is what makes us human, to spend our lives striving for a simple glimpse at understanding another. And perhaps that glimpse...is love.

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