a few days ago i received an anonymous comment on a post id written last week some time. the comment was as thoughtful as the post was thoughtless, i.e. written at 1 am with my computer on my chest, throwing a few lyrics of a missy higgins song up on the blog because Id walked home singing it and felt something stir.
the comment was wonderful because it made me work. wonderful too because i knew i objected somehow to where the logic was leading me but couldn't get my thoughts straight ....ive been feeling around the questions, trying to find the draft between the bricks of thought this person built up so beautifully...
theres a fine line that i don't think you address, and might even be missing, anonymous, between being in the moment and being overly aware of the moment.
through the rolling logic of your questions youre suggesting that i, or anyone, would be better off living in the moment, accepting the ride of life without the need to find meaning or assign future value to each experience.
but in the same breath you talk about stepping back, looking at peices of our experience and recognizing them for what they are and for how they affect our ride.
are those two ways of living not directly opposed?
or is it just me who finds it difficult to keep one foot on the ground, engaging in life in a visceral instinctive way, as i would like to live, while another part of me tries to keep things in perspective, be self aware, step back, as you said, to understand how my "velocity, momentum, energy" is all being affected by what im going through... i don't think they can be done at the same time. i almost envy people who live without questioning. i certainly pity people who question without living. but i cant seem to find the balance.
my tendency is to lift off too far. remove myself from a situation and study it like an anthropologist. When i was a child there was always fighting around my house and i distinctly remember feeling like i was floating up near the ceiling of my kitchen or living room, watching the conflicts. I have vivid memories but all memorized in the third person, like i TiVod much of my childhood. let me tell you, it was particuarly useful later when i was writing plays about it all.
i'm sure i'm not alone in this. at a basic level its self awareness but it became extreme at times and i've resented it, tried to anchor myself in moments that i didn't want any perspective on at all, i just wanted to live in them and give in to them but despite myself i'd become removed. i'm in a packed club with loud music and suddenly i'm suspended over it the scene in my emotional shark cage taking notes on the experience, on what it all means? fuck that.
these days the shifts in my perspective are dizzying. one day i'm so down i have no perspective at all. i try to be grateful for the job and for what i'm learning, i try to understand that i can change my situation if i want, but its like i can't manage to see over the walls of my cubicle to understand that this is just A job. its just one of many jobs ill have and what i learn here will ideally contribute to the job i one day take that i love deeply and feel passionately driven to do. writing this now i believe i'll find a line of work i love- i love too many things in this world not to... but you try having that kind of perspective when you get 532 emails a day, (no joke) 100 of which are multifaceted tasks to be done "asap." there isnt time in my day for perspective, i barely keep my head above water from 7 to 7.
other days still, i'm so high above the whole affair i'm barely in touch with myself at all. i walk home and realize im watching myself walk home, studying how it feels to be as alone as i often feel i am. studying the people around me wondering what they do and whether they're satisfied. i have trouble engaging with anyone on those days.
and then obviously some days, an increasing number of days, i find balance. when im laughing at my exceptionally entertaining and caring coworkers, when im reading a poem that surprises me, when i'm driving around boston at night in my fuzzy slippers with my roomate listening to Delilah's-Love-Songs-At-Night. those are beautiful moments. that is life at its best and me at my best. that, is how i lived for much of last year. there was someone in my life whose presence had the affect of keeping me aware but accepting. floating maybe, yes, a little, but only from elation, the high you get from real connection, but otherwise i was grounded, feeling, sensing everything fully without demanding anything from my experience but that it would continue.
anyway.
you seem to have a similiar affect on me, anonymous, you and your softly probing naggingly frustrating all the same beautiful questions.
so thank you.
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