|
silverpapyrus
|
read my profile
sign my guestbook
Name: Kathryn
Country: United States
State: Michigan
Metro: Detroit
Birthday: 2/26/1987
Gender: Female
Interests: Climbing, falling, trying, hoping, living, dreaming, imagining, writing, reading, singing, my friends, my family, my sisters, the second inklings, running as fast as I can just for the fun of it, swimming butterfly and backstroke like nothin' doing, playing guitar and piano when I feel like being a moody teenager, suprising people, history, being nostalgic when things end, getting excited when things begin, and being loved by my amazing and incredible Creator, no matter how many times I mess up.
Occupation: Government
Industry: Research
Message: message me
Member Since:
6/2/2005
|
|
SubscriptionsSites I Read
|
|
|
|
| "Break, break, break,
on thy cold gray stones, oh sea
and I would that my tongue could utter
the thoughts that arise in me"
We began memorizing this poem in English class today, passing on the importance of the oral tradition to the next generation and all that. It's amazing, in a way, closing your eyes and soaking up words just by hearing them.
A thought (inspired by Dr. Whalen): We live in a world of direct data transfer; we say what is necessary to state an idea, a thought, even an emotion. Poetry, well, good poetry, rejects the idea of the direct concise answer. It's the arrow aimed at the sky, making a perfect arch to bury itself into the target far deeper than any direct shot. The words love, death, God rarely appear in the poems that describe them; a sunset over the ocean reflects bereavement far more than the word ever could...
Maybe the best moments need no words although I, along with many of the people I care about most, strive valiantly to do just that.
We live in a world of data, where we can access any information in the blink of an eye. Who needs to remember it? It's there, and then gone, much like how information passes through our minds, frankly.
But if words disappeared forever unless there was someone to hold onto them, repeat them, treasure every one, pass them on...how would that change our perception of communication? Does our constant use of words cheapen them? Is remembering more important than we realize?
| | |
| There's this part in the book Peter Pan when the author explains one of the reasons his protagonist is able to never grow up. You see, in most children's lives, there's a moment where he or she realizes that life is not fair, that people aren't always going to act the way they ought to, and that the adults around you can't just fix it and make it better. This is a defining moment -- the beginnings of learning how to cope in a nonsensical world. Luckily Peter Pan is able to forget these moments...when Hook cheats in a fight, or the mermaids hurt something needlessly, the whole situation's escaped him seconds later.
I remember learning life wasn't fair. The first time might have been when we had been driving around the parking lot of Toys r Us for half of forever (which probably meant five minutes). It was near Christmas and there were no parking spots at all. We finally waited patiently for someone to back out, and this lady cut right in front of us to take it, knowing full well we were there. I couldn't imagine how an adult could do such a thing (since they were infallible in my mind at the time).
The next situation was a time I decided to eat straight Kool-Aid powder out of the cupboard while we had a babysitter. I had the container hidden under my shirt and Elizabeth said that she promised she wouldn't get mad at me or take it away if she knew what it was exactly. So I showed her. And got in trouble and had it taken away. But...she promised.
I think moments like that still hurt to this day. It's just cool that we can realize they exist and act upon them, versus sitting wide-eyed in a corner wondering why things don't make as much sense as they did five minutes ago. It's funny how the worst, least fair situations can turn out to be the best if you can see them in the proper light. Most recently at a Jars of Clay, Switchfoot, Third Day concert. And maybe, in some sense, like Peter Pan, forgetting the unfair moments is the best way to move on to what matters.
"I shall never grow up. Make believe is much too fun..." -Brightly Wound, Eisley
| | |
|
Philosophy’s of a blinker light:
Why is it that every time I turn,
no matter what the situation, I turn my blinker on. I could be driving home in
the dark up north with absolutely no one on the road…one time I even did it to
show which direction I was pulling out of my driveway. Here are some options to
what it all means.
1. I
was brainwashed in drivers ed and the habit is ingrained so deeply that it has
become an unconquerable facet of my life.
2. I’m
a really helpful person that makes sure I don’t take anyone by surprise while I’m
driving.
3. I’m
a diva that’s thinks everyone ought to care which way I’m turning, no matter
what the situation.
4. It’s
a desperate cry for attention…”um, this is the way I’m turning…if anyone
happened to be interested or anything”
5. Or,
I’m just used to using my blinker. Most probable, I think.
We have breakfast with the swim team and then I’m
going to the Royal Oak garage sale. It’s going to be a fun day. | | |
| I was thinking about how easy it is to become focused on our own issues; to be so caught up in fixing the problems in our own lives that we can never quite see past them to reach into someone else's life and make a difference. I know we're plagued with feelings of inadequacy in knowing the right thing to do or say, but maybe that adequacy is only going to come by doing something about it.
The funny thing is, I think that most of us would rather become lifechanging in someone else's life than continuing to spend endless hours rehashing the same problem/sin/etc. that's been chasing us for so long. Maybe if we stop looking over our shoulder desperately trying to take control and white-knuckle our way to a solution, we'll find the freedom and purpose that we're searching for.
Taking a moment to look past the end of my own nose...
| | |
| So as I browse through xkcd comments and note my surprising lack of emailing lately, I can't help but come to the conclusion that there's a purpose for blogging and writing down your thoughts and all that. I think everyone who's really thought about thinking has always come to the conclusion that the thoughts thought need to be organized and catagorized to ever get to the bottom of anything. Just thinking usually leads to a Montaigne-sized mess of disorder...but for some reason, reflection in writing seems to cause things to cohere more than otherwise.
It's 6:30, this is probably an odd time for this...but the other day random ideas started popping into my head that I thought I would like to jot down somewhere and, unfortunately, I've lost some of them since. So, since I still have page waiting for me...maybe it's time to start fresh.
Begin reflection.
| | |
|
