Epiphany
I'm kind of tired at the moment. Tired, emotional, and drained... Not from any stress, not from any problems...
I read two books today. Both books from a series; Ender's Shadow. They are by Orson Scott Card. An amazing series, as well as it's precursor; Ender's Game. As I finished reading these books and stepped outside to have my cigarette I was struck by some things I read in those books... I will quote a passage from 'Shadow of the Giant' here.
'Shadow of the Giant' Pg. 366-367.
"So it was Petra who read the short biography called, simply, The Hegemon, and signed Speaker for the Dead.
She wept all day after reading it.
She read it aloud at Peter's grave, stopping whenever any passersby came near. Until she realized that they were coming in order to hear her reading. So she invited them over and read it aloud again, from the beginning.
The book wasn't long, but there was power in it. To Petra, it was everything Peter had wanted it to be. It put a period on his life. The harm and the good. The wars and the peace. The lies and the truth. The manipulation and the liberty.
The Hegemon was a companion piece, really, to The Hive Queen. The one book was the story of an entire species; and so was the other.
But to Petra, it was the story of the man who had shaped her life more than any other.
Except one. The one who lived now only as a shadow in other people's stories. The Giant.
There was no grave, and there was no book to read there. And his story wasn't a human one because in a way he hadn't lived a human life.
It was a hero's life. It ended with him being taken away into heaven, dying but not dead.
I love you, Peter, she said to him at his grave. But you must have known that I never stopped loving Bean, and longing for him, and missing him whenever I looked in our children's faces.
Then she went home, leaving both her husbands behind, the one whose life had a monument and a book, and the one whose only monument was in her heart."
It struck a chord inside of me. The entire book and the preceding one. I am not sure exactly what of it did, or what I have taken away from those books. All I know is that I was on the verge of tears when I finished those books.
Yet, when I came inside I realized something about myself.
Whenever I experience something, whenever I learn something, whenever I feel an emotion; I take that and pull it deep inside myself. I don't bury it, I don't hide it away. I take it to some dreadfully wonderful place inside and breath a life into it that should not be given to it. I take my mind and absorb myself into these things. I philosophize and study, I meditate and think upon these things. At length and with great focus. Sub-consciously and consciously.
I had never before realized, though, just how deeply these things become integrated into me and my personality. My veiw on life takes each of these things into account and alters itself to accept and digest these things. Not necessarily as fact, or as fiction, but simply as information. I think -too- deeply on these things sometimes...
Anyways... I am going to go rest now. I find my mind wishing for the restful period brought on by sleep, and my body desiring to recharge itself in the same state. All I can truly say at this time is a question.
Why do people wish to destroy their minds and souls, driving away all that makes them what they are? Either they focus only on the achievements, and what they leave behind, or they wish to forget everything but the single moment they live now. These things are not bad things, yet I wonder at the people who wander into my work and are so unhappy... I know that if I were to know I was going to be going to my deathbed in the next half hour, I could say that I am satisfied with my life. Not that I have no regrets, not that I wish I could have done some things differently. But... I would be satisfied. I have taken the time I have been given and the knowledge that I have gleaned. I have tapped the scant wisdom I have been blessed with, and the rich friendships I have come across. I have done my absolute best to make the best use of the time I have had, have now, and will have. And for that... I am satisfied. Neither happy, nor sad, upset, nor content. Merely, satisfied.
... Be glad I am not going to my deathbed, neh...? :P
~Wing~
I read two books today. Both books from a series; Ender's Shadow. They are by Orson Scott Card. An amazing series, as well as it's precursor; Ender's Game. As I finished reading these books and stepped outside to have my cigarette I was struck by some things I read in those books... I will quote a passage from 'Shadow of the Giant' here.
'Shadow of the Giant' Pg. 366-367.
"So it was Petra who read the short biography called, simply, The Hegemon, and signed Speaker for the Dead.
She wept all day after reading it.
She read it aloud at Peter's grave, stopping whenever any passersby came near. Until she realized that they were coming in order to hear her reading. So she invited them over and read it aloud again, from the beginning.
The book wasn't long, but there was power in it. To Petra, it was everything Peter had wanted it to be. It put a period on his life. The harm and the good. The wars and the peace. The lies and the truth. The manipulation and the liberty.
The Hegemon was a companion piece, really, to The Hive Queen. The one book was the story of an entire species; and so was the other.
But to Petra, it was the story of the man who had shaped her life more than any other.
Except one. The one who lived now only as a shadow in other people's stories. The Giant.
There was no grave, and there was no book to read there. And his story wasn't a human one because in a way he hadn't lived a human life.
It was a hero's life. It ended with him being taken away into heaven, dying but not dead.
I love you, Peter, she said to him at his grave. But you must have known that I never stopped loving Bean, and longing for him, and missing him whenever I looked in our children's faces.
Then she went home, leaving both her husbands behind, the one whose life had a monument and a book, and the one whose only monument was in her heart."
It struck a chord inside of me. The entire book and the preceding one. I am not sure exactly what of it did, or what I have taken away from those books. All I know is that I was on the verge of tears when I finished those books.
Yet, when I came inside I realized something about myself.
Whenever I experience something, whenever I learn something, whenever I feel an emotion; I take that and pull it deep inside myself. I don't bury it, I don't hide it away. I take it to some dreadfully wonderful place inside and breath a life into it that should not be given to it. I take my mind and absorb myself into these things. I philosophize and study, I meditate and think upon these things. At length and with great focus. Sub-consciously and consciously.
I had never before realized, though, just how deeply these things become integrated into me and my personality. My veiw on life takes each of these things into account and alters itself to accept and digest these things. Not necessarily as fact, or as fiction, but simply as information. I think -too- deeply on these things sometimes...
Anyways... I am going to go rest now. I find my mind wishing for the restful period brought on by sleep, and my body desiring to recharge itself in the same state. All I can truly say at this time is a question.
Why do people wish to destroy their minds and souls, driving away all that makes them what they are? Either they focus only on the achievements, and what they leave behind, or they wish to forget everything but the single moment they live now. These things are not bad things, yet I wonder at the people who wander into my work and are so unhappy... I know that if I were to know I was going to be going to my deathbed in the next half hour, I could say that I am satisfied with my life. Not that I have no regrets, not that I wish I could have done some things differently. But... I would be satisfied. I have taken the time I have been given and the knowledge that I have gleaned. I have tapped the scant wisdom I have been blessed with, and the rich friendships I have come across. I have done my absolute best to make the best use of the time I have had, have now, and will have. And for that... I am satisfied. Neither happy, nor sad, upset, nor content. Merely, satisfied.
... Be glad I am not going to my deathbed, neh...? :P
~Wing~