I’m a bit of a nerd If you’d like to give that particular invisible stream of ‘me-ness’ a name.
My brain works in weird and wonderful ways (like all of our brains do). Perhaps, though, I glorify the magnificence of the human condition a little more than most— I can admit to that much.
I’ve never really understood why humans aren’t more fascinated by the wonder that is these truly magnificent bodies we’re built into.
How they can break, and heal, as if by magic.
How they can mix ingredients (male and female) to induce a process of growth and birth so miraculous it’s incomprehensible how any human has actually existed, ever.
How the light in my eyes can tell you how in love with you I really am, and how my words do not have to tell you a thing about the way that particular love feels inside of my body.
Anyway, I know:
I’m a bit of a nerd.
But don’t you guys think it is ALL so TRULY AMAZING?
I sure do, and that’s just the human body parts of it all.
I’ve just read a blog post that made me dig a little into the way I feel about all this human-ness at a deeper level, particularly the way I feel about the ‘invisible’ things of life.
Love (or any emotion, really).
It all lives in the sea of nothing and everything, doesn’t it?
Energy. Nothing and everything.
My Dad always used to throw out this line—and laugh at his own hilarity, actually, as I often laugh at my own. I completely blame him. For that, and for my large selection of ‘funny but not really funny’ jokes.
Anyway, the line he used to toss out there was ‘time is an abstract concept.’
At the time (ha ha ha :P) —I was somewhere between eight and thirteen, I’d imagine— I looked at him, eyebrow raised. What on earth was he going on about? Time wasn’t abstract. Time was clearly time.
Part of me agrees still, that time is a very real thing.
There is a clock up there. Today is Saturday.
But is there really ‘time’ because there is a clock up there?
And is it really Saturday, guys?
And am I, indeed, ‘a nerd’? (Wink)
I’ll be back tomorrow with some more waffling, I think.
I send a text message to a friend: a message that warms my heart because I’ve said something that fills me with all the lovely things.
In my mind, I see my friend receive the text message. She smiles.
In my mind, we have just shared the most BEAUTIFUL tender moment together.
To me, this is my reality.
But that’s the thing, isn’t it?
I’ve constructed the entire story beyond reality as I truly know it to be.
The reality is that the actual version of events may have gone something like this:
I send message. Smile (all the lovely things, la la la.) My friend receives the message. My friend is emotionally triggered by something I have lovingly communicated in the message. They are not on the same page as I am. Not even one-little-bit.
Oh my goodness. Youguys. Do you see what horror I have to put up with in this random little world of mine? How is a dreamy, love-hearty girl like me to deal with such a stern and logical talking to by the invisible powers that reside within? Lessons on how to live in the moment. Lessons on how to tear the dreamy light out of my eyes?
This is a little experiment where I will write. And I will not stop. Until I feel it’s time. Time, it’s an abstract concept, don’t you think? It’s not of the world, but also, it is. In an odd kind of way.
What is life, I often wonder. It’s the little things taken for granted. It’s the flowers we walk past every day, without looking. It’s me. It’s you. It’s us. It’s them. All of us living in a world where everyone else is so easily wrong. All of us looking for something more. Better. Free-er. Right-er.
A little bit lost, most of us. A little bit bamboozled. Unsure. Unsure and beautiful. Unsure and strange. Unsure and almost there, but never quite there because ‘there’ will never be a place we can find on a map. And if we do happen to find it, we don’t want it anymore because ‘there’ always looks better from ‘here’.
Nothing’s certain. Nothing’s true. Nothing’s right, nothing can be. Ever. Not when all our eyes are made from different shades of wonder. Different shades of serious. Different shades of true.
But one thing I do know is this. Life is beautiful. Precious. Mine. Yours. Ours. It’s safe and it’s unsafe and isn’t that the point? Isn’t that the beautiful part? The not knowing. The being here, the never really knowing where ‘here’ is?
This was a little experiment where I wrote.
A little experiment that will go on. And on. And on.