(no subject)
OK, so at this point I am just procrastinating by writing in my live journal. Last board meeting today and I am not particularly melancholy. I mean, I am because I HATE endings. But I'm not because let's face it, there will be more although probably quite different board meetings in the future. And everything ends sometime. And sending these e-mails is starting to get old.
My room is empty, as if I were moving out. Pictures are strewn accross my bed. The fire marshall is coming tomorrow, so Tania and I stripped our room bare and these blank walls stare at me and remind me about how impermanent life is. Ideas change, basic formations of thought and the way we frame our understanding of our lives change, cells in our body are born and die, and very little that is in us is the original material. I am not who I was five seconds ago. I am not who I was when I was born. But I want to be. How I want to be.
Back to the paper that I have to write.
Lots of smiles today. Some pleasure reading. Slice and bake homework. (I did it over break, so all I had to do was print it out in the morning and turn it in). Interesting lectures. Lunch with a friend and dinner with a friend. Walking through a waterslide on the way back from dinner and sitting drenched through a blue notes rehearsal (which was so fun!), singing, remembering that this is and remains home, and nothng is changed really, and my sense of security is no way breached by the fact that the semester is ending because what I have here has more permanency than I was giving it credit for yesterday.
And there is always Ted, who has more permanency than anyone, who is really the symbol for permanence in my life. Ted never changes. No, even Ted ages and loses his nose and gets a little matted. And certainly my relationship with him changes. But there is something consistent in him, something more permanent than maybe anything I have ever experienced. Except my mother. And my father. And...well...no, not my sister, she had to go and grow up. And so did I. Don't you hate that?
And don't you love it?
Life is a balancing act between hate and love. Not that I think hate really exists, because I'm undecided on that issue. But maybe life is a balancing act between love and not-love. It is ok to not-love something, right? Because I try to love everything, but in the end that is impossible. And the one thing that I can definately say I actively not-love the most is change. And growth. And endings.
But according to Tennyson, nothing really ends, it just evolves into something different and closer to perfection and G-d and the archetype for all goodness. So I am moving toward a better human condition. And so is everything. That's pretty comforting, really.
My room is empty, as if I were moving out. Pictures are strewn accross my bed. The fire marshall is coming tomorrow, so Tania and I stripped our room bare and these blank walls stare at me and remind me about how impermanent life is. Ideas change, basic formations of thought and the way we frame our understanding of our lives change, cells in our body are born and die, and very little that is in us is the original material. I am not who I was five seconds ago. I am not who I was when I was born. But I want to be. How I want to be.
Back to the paper that I have to write.
Lots of smiles today. Some pleasure reading. Slice and bake homework. (I did it over break, so all I had to do was print it out in the morning and turn it in). Interesting lectures. Lunch with a friend and dinner with a friend. Walking through a waterslide on the way back from dinner and sitting drenched through a blue notes rehearsal (which was so fun!), singing, remembering that this is and remains home, and nothng is changed really, and my sense of security is no way breached by the fact that the semester is ending because what I have here has more permanency than I was giving it credit for yesterday.
And there is always Ted, who has more permanency than anyone, who is really the symbol for permanence in my life. Ted never changes. No, even Ted ages and loses his nose and gets a little matted. And certainly my relationship with him changes. But there is something consistent in him, something more permanent than maybe anything I have ever experienced. Except my mother. And my father. And...well...no, not my sister, she had to go and grow up. And so did I. Don't you hate that?
And don't you love it?
Life is a balancing act between hate and love. Not that I think hate really exists, because I'm undecided on that issue. But maybe life is a balancing act between love and not-love. It is ok to not-love something, right? Because I try to love everything, but in the end that is impossible. And the one thing that I can definately say I actively not-love the most is change. And growth. And endings.
But according to Tennyson, nothing really ends, it just evolves into something different and closer to perfection and G-d and the archetype for all goodness. So I am moving toward a better human condition. And so is everything. That's pretty comforting, really.