ahh sadly this blog is over...just my luck.
~L.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
ELIOT, SPIDERMAN, AND SHERMAN ALEXIE...
I'm sure no one's going to get to see this, but today I was watching Spiderman II and Doc. Oct's wife quoted Burnt Norton "Time past and time present, are both perhaps present in time future..." no joke I was not even paying attention to the movie until I heard the lines and I instantly started reciting it with the lady. awesome. oh and the other thing is I am reading Sherman Alexie's book The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fist Fight in Heaven and towards the end of the short story A Drug Called Tradition the talk of time comes up, and past, present, future time as well as the eternal present..it is so close to Eliot's 4 q's that I got goose bumps. For once I am feeling the effects of my education. Thank you Dr. Sexson for opening my eyes and my mind to the world of beauty. I am more excited to make the amazing connections now than ever before!
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Tai I will Bitch Slap you, and you will die because I am Little Legged Lisa and apparently I can kill people with my bare hands
Tai, you analyze friends like you've had to many drinks--humorously. I can picture you sitting at your computer thinking of some "witty" comment that you think I would laugh at, when in fact nothing you say makes me laugh--it makes me crack up and feel the joy of having a friend that can tear me apart in order to build me up again.
yeah I was angry, and yeah i still am, and my alarm clock has been going off since the day I was born. I am what you call an "angry bitch" but with some of the most light hearted ways about her. You, sadly, were not in my thought when I made the comment about BZ being overeducated, so don't flatter yourself. I was more or less making a reference to the angry soccer moms that do nothing with their education and instead spend their time running stop signs, praising their obviously cruel children, and looking at me like I'm the one offering her kids the "happy" pills that line her unlocked medicine cabinet. Oh and I was also talking about the creepy men that line the bars looking for some "sweet piece of ass" to swoon with his poetic words and bad boy attitude. I don't think you fall into either of these categories, and i don't think anyone else in our class falls into these categories...it is kind of nice to be around intelligent people who listen to you, and not just themselves.
This is more or less what I'm pissed about. about the fact that I won't have people like you around me to talk about Eliot while making extremely obscene comments and laughing aimlessly at ourselves. There will be no time like the present. I am sad and angry that it is ending.
~L.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
I do all this work, and YOU get the degree.
I must say I'm a bit numb to this whole end of the school thing. Graduation seems like just another pointless ritual that we must subject ourselves to, when in fact it seems like graduating doesn't mean much anymore. I mean honestly it seems like anyone can get a college degree these days. Put maybe 1/2 the effort into their education and graduate at the same level as kids that spend their weekends in the library sacrificing their lives to books, calculations, and experiments. All for what? For someone else who worked half as hard as you to take a job away that you are obviously more qualified for.
This town is sadly over educated, and though staying her is my plan (for just a year!! haha right it never works like that), i feel like i am digging my own grave. If I fall into the Bozeman circle of ileitis (which i highly doubt they even want me) and know how educated I am, but choose to do nothing with it, I will be extremely disappointed with myself. Nothing against those people who live here and are educated, I'm just saying I cannot rely on this place to advance me in my life. Of course I am over generalizing the whole situation, but in all reality there is no place more educated with unapplied intelligence than Bozeman (as far as I am concerned/know).
It is kind of a cool thought, knowing that the majority of the time the person sitting next to you could carry on a very enlightening and well-versed conversation, but at the same time there's a reason why people stay here. Bozeman is a click--like one of those groups in High School where you have to wear the right shoes to be in. Yeah that's exactly what Bozeman is, a big frickin' click.
I guess I am just upset at the moment, realizing that I am done. I am done with what I know, and I am done with my comfortable seat, I am done with the classroom setting, and group projects, I am done. But yet I am just beginning. I really don't want to do this celebration, and I don't want to live in a place with so much influence and yet little diversity.
I don't feel worthy of my degree, and yet know how much time and effort i have put into it. It makes me sick to my stomach to think about the hours I have spent not sleeping, not eating, and not paying attention to the little illuminations of life for this degree, and some get away with not even breaking a mental sweat (not the students that are simply that smart, but the ones that do nothing and yet still pass). I too would like to enjoy my days and nights in other ways, and not spend my Saturday's in the library. I would like to take mini trips to places and have experiences, but I don't because I choose to be studious. And in the end, it seems to never pay off. I guess I'm lucky that I'm getting pissed about this now, because I probably would have dropped out of college after this semester if I wasn't graduating.
I guess it's just not my day today, and I needed to take it out on something, and how wonderful it is to have a blog to do that to, and not on someone that I could potentially hurt.
~L.
Monday, April 26, 2010
YO TAI
Today Tai killed it.
Today everyone else killed it. I loved our "communion," delicious and refreshing. I think that it was a brilliant way to present East Coker, and the ending of capstone. I have enjoyed getting to know you all, even though I haven't really spent much time one on one with all of you. I have managed to get to know some of you...and I must say if the people that I have made friends with are so awesome I'm sure you all that I have not had the pleasure of spending time with are just as awesome.
Group 2--
My favorite part--beside Kari telling Doug to not worry (so good, Kari your composure is incomparable, you are the master, and I only hope that one day I too can keep myself contained like you do)--was when everyone was reading lines from the different literature pieces, haha and the Police Reports!!! Awesome, it really brought a sense of chaos and what I have been feeling all semester long. I felt right at home with the meshing of words. Oh and of course i already shouted out to Tai, but WAY TO GO!! It is inevitable that we will 'jam' together you and your fiddle me and my awesome flute...or i have a ukulele, and a guitar, shit we should just start a wacky band.
Ok But everyone was great, and Taylor I loved your answer to the question of your presentation being sacrilegious, I agree mockery is the best form of flattery, and we are Literature majors, we must see things from all different perspective to affective tell the story.
Group 1--
Pat, your character reminded me of so many, but my favorite is Jazz Man from The Simpsons...i don't know why but you had some kind of ora about you that screamed "classy jazz man."
Mick, how did you do it? Your rant seemed almost too real! I loved it and couldn't stop laughing.
Kevin--modern Hamlet was meant for you, and your bright eyes, good luck with your internship.
Victoria--I doubt you are such a bitchy girlfriend, but thank you for channelling that, you were great.
Zuzu, there is something about your voice that is so easy to listen to, perhaps you should look into reading to elderly people, i know this sounds so funny and weird, but they enjoy it so much, and you are really go at it.
And Adam--your Horacio was great, Kari was right you have the best impression of him, a modern twist on an ancient character.
Everyone did so well, presentation are usually so blah. In other classes, i wouldn't second guess missing a day of presentations, but this class there is no way that a presentation could be less than entertaining and full of meaningful connections.
I just hope that you all enjoy our presentations on Wednesday.
~L.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Thanks!
So as presentations come to an end, well minus the three for Friday, I am coming to the realization that I might not be ready to graduate, but alas I must fare forward in my young travels and find a new stomping ground to explore.
I have enjoyed listening to each and every one of you present you papers (with the exception of last Friday which I am sorry I missed due to a dr. apt) your thoughts, your dreams, your imaginations, your faith in the future--as well as the past, and the connections you all have made. You all have opened my eyes to a whole new way to thinking. Seeing beyond myself and beyond the tip of my oh so cute Cindy Loo Woo nose. (JUST KIDDING!!) But honestly all that I have heard in this class has been uplifting, even the dreary parts are uplifting because I know that I have gained more from this one semester than I have my entire college career. This might be because I have actually taken time out of my personal life to focus on the material that Dr. Sexson picks out for us. If I would have just opened my eyes two years ago I might have a bit more under my belt, but I guess that's the way the cookie crumbles and I must move on to a bigger cookie a more delicious cookie, one the size of my head or rather one the size of the world!
I am so glad that I got to experience Capstone the right way, though stressful at the end, the stress is a sign that I too have grown and have found meaning in my education. I care for it, I cherish it, I plan to use it. And how Mick was so excited and joyous explaining his paper, it made me realize that even with all the stress and the many pages of paper waisted to revising, I too enjoyed the experience of writing my 'final' paper. I had the experience and missed the meaning, until Mick reminded me of the moment and I was there--again--immersed in the writing, the flow of fingers on the keyboard. Thanks Mick for reminding me of the meaning.
Every day that goes by, we are closer and closer to the end of our college river--some of you might be thinking of grad school, so your river is extended filled with larger rapids and sharp rocks. But for those that aren't thinking of grad school right away, or at all, our river is widening, into a delta, an estuary were the sea water mixes with the fresh water, and we are forced to learn how to live in a different environment. Its scary to think that I am going to have to learn how to live in salt water when I've been relaxing in the freshest of fresh waters--I guess it's a good thing I grew up by the biggest ocean of them all :)
And Victoria you me happy today with your third section quote (my favorite): "You are the music/While the music lasts" I read this line over daily, It brings me to the moment we are in now, forgetting the future is before us and the past is behind. We all march to a different drum line, and yet find a common note that we all can hear, feel, enjoy, as well as appreciate.
Cudos to all of us! And the three for Friday!
~L.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Now I feel Dumb
Thanks for everyone showing off their talents. If we were on a soccer field I too could show off some of my own talents, but sadly we were stuck in a classroom with not a ball but a stack of papers in front of me.
Everyday Illuminations
The everyday life after years of exposure to the elements of reality such as work, school, deadlines, failed relationships, television, and computers becomes worn out and repetitive for the individual. From times past to times present, we become jaded to the everyday moments that are divine and producing clarity of situations, and instead clutter our minds with dreams of the future. Humanity has centered its existence around the concept of time and divinity since the beginning. But time is not as simple as past, present, and future and divinity is not reached automatically. Instead time needs to be seen as only the present, with past memories to help us in the moment, and where future dreams are irrelevant and cannot be seen as reliable for recollection of past moments and divinity as something to strive for in everyday life.
Time and divinity can be seen as equals. Humans try to harness time with anti-aging remedies and stories of immortality. The divine is immortal, and there is no constraint of time upon it. Divinity is reached after time has taken life and transformed it into the afterlife. And though we cannot beat time, and all must succumb to it in death, humans can live in hopes of becoming divine by recognition of it in the everyday little moments of life. To look for the divine we are required to wind through silent moments of observance which are silenced themselves by the distracting chaos of everyday banality.
In T.S. Eliot’s The Four Quartets each line poses as a moment in the day that recognizes the divine and draws meaning to life. He took one life, focusing on individual days and each small epiphany that lead to the four grand epiphanies that happen throughout. Eliot picked the day down to the bone, and then picked further into minute illuminations of that day.
The moments of happiness--not the sense of well-being,
Fruition, fulfilment, security or affection,
Or even a very good dinner, but the sudden illumination--
We had the experience but missed the meaning,
And approach to the meaning restores the experience
In a different form (Eliot 39).
The power of the everyday epiphany is centered in self-reliance and knowing that reality is merely part of the path that leads to divinity.
Time is the eternal present, 'time past' is not time at all but rather memories that we use to help explain the situation in the instant. We must recognize the difference between memories and time and know that one simply helps the other make sense. Returning to a time is impossible, we can only return to a memory, "all time is unredeemable" (13). These memories can help make directional choices towards divinity but are not part of the present; they are only helpful reminders.
In each quartet is a grand epiphany, but what is divine in the quartets are the moment by moment lines that provide an understanding of time present as well as time past. We are not supposed to dream of the future, or hope for better days, we are supposed to see the divine in the moment. As Krishna, teaches Arjuna in The Bhagavad-Gita, "Know me, Arjuna...Know that nature's qualities come from me...All this universe, deluded by the qualities inherent in nature, fails to know that I am beyond them and unchanging" (74-75). If we desire to live fully as creatures with divine rights, we must see the world around us as divine, and know that divinity can reach us too. By sacrificing ourselves to the present, meditating on moments in the now enlightenment can be accomplished.
The future is intriguing, a constant thought brewing in our minds, something unattainable in the moment distracting us from the current moments--the only moments that exist. To guarantee is to have hope, but hope is merely a comfort for current moments. However, death is in every moment of life, therefore we must not presume that the future will be, and know the divine in all that exists. We believe that the future is truly something that can be attained, but forget that death is in every moment of life. The future is hope, and hope is an entity of the mind, a protective device that lets us mask our fears of the unknown.
In Annie Dillard's essay The Eclipse, she writes her experience after the fact. Using past memories to become involved with her major epiphany in that present, but what she failed to recognize in the moment of the eclipse was the divine, and that her time of recollection might have never been, because the future was not guaranteed to come. She unawarely placed her entire life in the future, relying on that day when she could reminisce of moments that have passed and turned into memories. If time ended for her in a car wreck on her way home from the hill where she witnessed the eclipse her account of that time would have never happened. Her assumption of future moments, like our own assumptions of the future, were selfish and undivine by nature.
What we choose to ignore in the present is that time is not a lingering entity of reality, and rather it is a constant flow of moments washed over by the minds inability to forage on from the past, and to not venture too far into the unknown. Recognizing the smaller moments and knowing that larger moments might not happen can bring peace to our lives. “The great revelation had never come. The great revelation perhaps never did come” Our lives might never reach the great revelation because it simply might not be a great moment, and rather just a small unadorned instant that passes by us inconspicuously. “Instead, there were little daily miracles, illuminations, matches struck unexpectedly in the dark” (Woolf- To the Lighthouse). Trying to explain these illuminations in nearly impossible unless recognized in that moment, which are not large in comparison to grand epiphanies centered on a divine oracle presenting itself to you, because these moments do not need to be that grand.
From hearing “the unheard music” in Burnt Norton, to recognizing “[our] beginning is [our] end” in East Coker, knowing that “the way up is the way down” in Dry Salvages, and that “we shall not cease from exploration” in Little Gidding are all moments of our day to day realizations of our lives searching for the divine in everyday (Eliot 14, 23, 41, 59). And beyond the day to day realizations, spanning into the realm of transforming into divine beings, and sacrificing ourselves to the higher being of power is perhaps what these poems are meant to teach us.
=====================================================================
My eyes flutter open, usually the process of waking up is much more jarring and unpleasant, but today was different, still, calming, a moment that I could stay in forever. Rolling over I see 6:50, I beat the rude awakening of the excessively loud alarm clock application on my cell phone. With ten minutes to spare, who knows what is in store for me today. I made my way down to the kitchen where I always wish an automatic coffee pot would grace my tiny kitchen, but ah that’s right, the night before I had prepared for the morning setting up the coffee pot so that all I had to do was sleepily press a button.
As the coffee starts to brew I look out the window to the backyard, how nice it truly is to have a yard for the dogs as well as summer barbecues—but today is nothing like summer. It had snowed the day before, accumulating a great amount for April. Thinking back, in California April was filled with sun and rain, but mostly sun. Now that I live in Montana it is as if those memories are past dreams that I can vaguely remember, and yet today it is drizzling, bring me back home—minus the snow covered grass. But this is all ok, the snow, the drizzling rain, the coffee brewing behind me all of this is what makes a place like Montana so unique. I stood staring for a second, the coffee pot had made the coffee and is now silent, the rain is muffled by the door, and in this moment silence washed over me as I captured this moment—a moment of reflection and clarity.
I grab my cup of coffee and head back upstairs to throw together a typical outfit for a typical day—oh wait “I got to present my paper today in capstone, sigh, maybe I should dress up a bit…”
Pause…sip… ‘This coffee is delicious.’
“Nah, I’ll stick to the usual. I’m already going to be awkward enough.” Going about the normal routines I shower, apply lotion, put my contacts in, brush my hair—make sure to brush it properly since Tai so kindly pointed out that I often look like I don’t know how to use a brush—and finally dental hygiene.
While brushing my teeth I decide to turn off the running faucet (I have heard that going green starts with little moments—such as turning off running water when not needed). The silence is almost too much; I can hear my toothbrush moving back and forth inside my mouth, my thoughts are uncluttered by the rush of water. ‘Huh, I didn’t realize how peaceful brushing my teeth could actually be.’
The moment passed, water is completely off, and my tooth brush is in it home, gathering the rest of my junk together, I opened the door and stepped out into the morning—in front of the house where the world begins and the comfort of home is left behind. The pattering of rain on the melting snow sounds like mice tap dancing on carpet, ‘At least it’s acting more like spring,’ I think as the door shuts behind me and I start to hobble my way across the windy tundra running alongside Lincoln Street. The walk to school is nothing special, but after spending so much time typing about the little moments I start to see the little moments unfolding around me. The birds singing in the trees, the baby horse throwing his head in excitement at the fresh hay pile, and the mountains off in the distance that I can’t see right now, but know they are there.
I am transforming from home to school, from secluded to social Lisa all in a matter of 20 minute. ‘Is this my 20 minute lifetime that we went over in Emergent Lit? God, what a boring 20 minutes, oh wait that just means that I’m boring…great.’ I watch my feet step one lopsidedly in front of the other. “Stupid brace,” remembering back to high school when I had injured my knee for the last time—I thought—and how this brace had not been on my knee when I did it. Why hadn’t I been wearing it? What was I thinking? I knew and still know what my parents were thinking at the moment, “We told you so!” But they would never in a million years say that to me, not at that point in my life, when anything said was grounds for an all out yelling match dominated by the person usually in the wrong—me. But that time is in the past and though I can look back on it, it is not benefiting me at this moment, and I must ‘fare forward…Craig.’ The line is tainted forever now, thanks Group that was a great moment in class. And in this moment I see—the brace, my walk to school, the baby horse are all thinking that comfort my walk and that I expect to be here when I make my journey to school.
I keep on moving forward towards my biggest fear, public speaking. Running over my final paper in my head, ‘everyday moments that we don’t pay attention to, but need to because they are what will bring us clarity in everyday life. I need some clarity in my life.’ Reaching school still pondering what it is that I am actually going to say standing in front of class. I always prepare, but my words never sound the same in the moment. Perhaps preparation only works for mundane moments in life, such as preparing coffee the night before. Lost in the moment—what if everything was prepared for us, how would we know what to prepare for?—we can’t tell the future, and waste time trying to prepare for it.
“QUACK!”
What the heck, I jump a little, looking down I see a pair of mallard ducks; yeah I know the name because my dad is such a bird guy that I too have become obsessed with the heavenly creatures, sometimes I even get complemented on my ability to name the birds as we drive by them flying above fields. I always enjoy watching the ducks here on campus, they remind me of the campus in Reno, only there they have geese that are insane and attack at the drop of a dime—haha yeah that was funny when I got bit on my way to class. In the moment, the coloring on the male duck was brilliant. Strange how male animals have all the flare, when human males seem to simply smell funny and fail at matching patterns and colors on a daily basis?
Click, click, click…I am so glad that I am not wearing heals, how on earth would I even wear heals with this brace on—the hallway in Wilson is relatively quiet. I opened the door; no one is in class yet, what the heck? ‘Oh yeah I woke up early.’ Sitting down contemplating leaving; my tummy never sets right on days of presentations, ‘Erin.’ People start trickling in. I start to get even more nervous. ‘Why,why, why! Why do I have to present my paper? I dislike others reading what I write….I don’t feel so good. I can do this, everyone in here has to do the same thing—dumbass. And we all know each other—relatively well…academically. I mean they read my blogs…What if they don’t read my blogs, what if they simply laugh at my blogs!’ I am caught up in a moment of self-absorption, ‘who cares, you are you and they aren’t. Breath!’ I sometimes have to talk myself out of an internal panic attack, especially on days of presentations. And in the moment I realize—the association of the piece of work with a face is what I am terrified of. I would rather remain faceless and present my work, than have people know my face and apply it to my work.
Everyone’s here, ready with papers in hands and a look of tiresome terror on their faces. Some not as much as other, especially none like what I image mine to look like right now. Erin pats me on the back—I bet it would be the butt if I was standing—she always has something to say to make me feel like I will break out in hives but look good while doing it.
***
I am back in my seat. “What just happened?” I look over at Erin, she smiles, “You killed it,” sending up a victory fist pump in honor of my speech that I had deliberately blacked out for. I had the experience and I didn’t miss the meaning, I knew the meaning without remembering the experience—I had completed my most anxiety filled paper ever, and presented it, I have won, I have accomplished all that I thought six years prior I would never have finished. I realized then that the experience can be lost in the actually moment, but the meaning can still be understood. I knew standing up in front of class was going to be hard, but I knew that once I was done, I was done. I lived freely in the moment of my paper, so free that my mind and body were separated from one another, and I sat with Krishna above it all.
Even though capstone is done, I still have Emergent Lit to think about. Ugh one paper down, and another right behind it. At least this one didn’t have all the hype building up the entire semester, or rather my entire college career, and possibly even before that. Emergent lit—please—I got this in the bag. I make my way up to the computer lab by the Native American Studies department. I really enjoy the time that I get to spend there, especially because I have become involved in Native Studies and formed bonds with many of the professors, who walked by often times stopping to say hello. Today was no different. “LISA! Missed you in class yesterday, too good for food are you?” Ah I would know that voice in a hundred years from now, Dr. Lawrence Gross, my professor for Native Food Systems this semester. “Yeah, I figured if I’m on a diet I should probably skip my one class that relates to food.” His oversized glassed reminded me of my father, but his small stature and extremely small waste line reminded me of the lowbrow male adolescent character McLovin from the movie Superbad. “Oh, ok. Well you make sure that whatever it is you’re typing, it’s better than that junk you turn in to me! HAHA, oh I’m only kidding. Keep up the good work.” And with that he was gone.
Sitting for a moment—Gross is the professor that singled me out and made an example of me and my ‘bad writing’ in class earlier this semester. He also, in the same week, picked the same paper (revised) to be an example paper for future classes on how to write the best paper possible. Huh? What a silly little man. I am only the second person out of all his students to ever have a paper taken to be used as an example of what good writing should look and sound like. Even with all his teasing, he sure does know how to bring the story out of me. I guess it is part of his culture, the Anishinabe people were and still are great storytellers—I guess he really does know what he is talking about, even if he makes some of the worst jokes I have ever heard.
The moments that I have spent thinking of what to put in my paper, have come and gone, and memories fade in and out like the tide—or the sequences of epiphanies in To the Lighthouse that Kevin poetically discovered—but what am I doing, thinking about past times, and the future that hasn’t happened yet? Haven’t I learned anything from my capstone paper? Eliot even says right in Dry Salvages “And the time of death is every moment” (42). I am wasting time worrying about events that have and haven’t happened, rather than seeing the moment of now. I was in the moment earlier today, this morning, the walk to school, brushing my teeth, and I saw the little meaning of each moment, slowing me down shutting me off from the noise of common problems. Death is right around the corner…but honestly a brick falling off Montana Hall and striking me on the way down was highly unlikely, and plus I’m a small target, my epithet for heaven’s sake is Little Legs! Death might be happening around the world, but at this moment I need to focus on what is present.
I walk to Emergent Lit, passing the offices of sociology professors—‘what is sociology anyway?—the study of being social? Maybe I need to think about picking up a book or two on the subject because recently I’ve been antisocial, and self-absorbed.’ Eh, I enjoy times alone, seclusion thinking of my thoughts, and recognizing the moment in the moment, when divinity seems to be embracing my fragile frame and weak mind. At the top of the stairs my mind shifts from sociology to kinesiology—my knee—‘will I have to get surgery yet? Shit that would ruin the summer for sure.’ I start down the stairs; at least these ones have a railing to grab onto. Getting old is going to be a stiff journey for me, but at least I enjoyed the activity I was involved in, the multiple times I injured myself.
In Emergent Lit the corner cradles me. I sit at the ends of rows or up against walls because I tick—internally—when people surround me. My dad has the same problem, looking at my notes I realize that my dad takes notes in the same fashion—chaotic and yet perfectly in unison with our thoughts. In that moment the realization that I was not becoming my mother, but in fact I was becoming my father freaked me out a little. ‘I don’t wanna be an old man with bad knees and fat fingers.’ But yet again, thinking of the future is a waste because it is not guaranteed. There is hope after all that I won’t be my father—boy is just not a good look for me.
Looking up, I see Rio working the computers. I realize how little I know about technology, and how I enjoy that fact. If you’re good at something you’re good at it. I’m good at sports, but at the moment there is a leash holding me back, so I am not good at sports, I was but no longer am in the moment. But in the moment that I am not good, Rio is good with computers, making his present time known—to those that are paying attention. The moment was grand, even if technology is taking us away from divine moments, it still can bring a sense of peace to some people. I instantly felt less hatred towards the new ‘i-world.’ And just as the moment had appeared, it vanished and I was back looking at my notes reminded of how much more entertaining drawing was than surfing the Internet. In the moment—isn’ diversity great, the fact that one can love the exact opposite of what another loves? I realize diversity brings moments of clarity to the individual.
After class the students all go their separate ways. It was the end of my school day but the middle of another day filled with reality. I walk past Montana Hall, ‘hah, what if a brick fell right now and hit me on the head? Did I recognize the divine in the world at that moment? Hummm maybe I’ll get a sandwich at Specs…’
The day is still gloomy out, but it is warmer than winter. Summer like, “the future is a faded song, a Royal Rose or a lavender spray” just around the corner but not in the now moment (Eliot 40). I have got to stop thinking of the future, wishing my life away as older generations say to us young-ins. Focus on the present, for it is both past and future experiences, as we have been learning this entire semester, or maybe it is just past experiences with hope for future ones. Eliot would be hurt by my inability to focus on what is now. I need to give him credit, and just do it!
I can feel each rain drop wetting my face, and my hood magnifies the sound of them hitting my coat. Cars pass by with travelers, heading towards different destinations, but that doesn’t matter, what matters are the raindrops. Each one contributing to my summer fun—there I go again focusing on the future—each one contributing to “the unheard music” and keeping me “distracted from distraction by distraction” (14, 17). Each raindrop that hits is a little epiphany of that day that has been missed. And in that moment I too am an epiphany, I am a raindrop falling towards the ground; hurling myself at some un-expecting bystander trying to be noticed as an individual moment in time.
“OH!” I forgot my flash drive in Wilson! The moment is lost, and I transform back into my human form, leaving the little epiphanies to fall unheard all around me. And as I trek back to Wilson, I forget.
SMACK—unfortunately a brick become loose, and like Dr. Sexson suggested many times prior to this freak accident, I lost my life in a moment of silence to a violent brick falling off Montana Hall. With no major epiphany occurring in the moment right before my untimely death, I did get to feel the rain and notice each drop separately seconds before. Death is in every moment and as for my “lifetime burning in every moment,” well… my flame had been extinguished (31). Thank God I got my Capstone paper in, or else my story would never be told and immortality would never have been reached. I guess those extra ten minutes really didn’t matter after all.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
