Tuesday, February 8, 2011

On Sneakers in College Hallways...

A day late, and a dollar short...
In any case, my dry spell is over. I have, once again, Dear Reader, found my muse. Inspiration floods me, threatens to overflow my banks, pour forth in veritable torrents, soaking the carpets of my borrowed office, generally making a mess, and leaving me drained, weakened, but satisfied.
Well, maybe not. However, I am writing again, after a week long hiatus punctuated by only the most painful 100-word spurts, spurred by deadlines more than by desire.
This new found inspiration has gotten me thinking, though, of the good things in life. The little moments, the instances of pure, child like joy that hopefully punctuate the day. Like getting just the right knot on your wool tie, knowing no one but you will notice, or care if they did. Like eating ribs, alone, standing over the pot they were cooked in, too consumed in consuming to bother with the niceties of table manners, or civilization in general. The accidental naps in the afternoon sun, awash in the red light behind your eyelids, sound and reality fading slowly. Discovering the ability to make brown sugar fudge with one's sister. Skiing, in slow curves, down the easy trails in the last light of the setting sun. Realizing, with no small joy, that someone has reached out, and is holding your hand. These sorts of moments.
I am, these days, so busy that I have begun to take these moments for granted. This is dangerous ground, Gentle Reader, as I am not convinced that having lost these moments, I would be able to consider myself, well, human. Surely, it is the appreciation of these moments that help define what it is to be a part of this human endeavour, culture, society, the arts, scientific progress, life. I am busy because I have a plan, and I want to work towards that end. But not to the detriment of my soul. Not to the point that I lose the value attached to these quiet moments of sublime happiness. Not to the point of inhumanity. Stay gold.

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