Past and Present: Reality and Living
This enormously long post is actually just a diary entry for me about the summer, reality, books and contentment. Feel free to read, but it's aimed at self-reflection rather than an external audience.
Given the dicky state of the state right now, I feel as if I should be finding fault with something in life. I realize however, that I cannot. So much has happened on a grand scale this summer, that I find myself increasingly looking towards the small things to keep life on track and quite extraordinarily happy.
This summer in Colorado we have suffered through wildfires and mass murder, reminders of our past and tragedy in the present. The wildfires were compared to the Hayman fire, until the Waldo Canyon fire destroyed 347 homes and scorched over 18,000 acres, making it the most destructive fire in Colorado history, not to mention the other fires barreling across the state like the High Park Fire. We rallied after the fire, a community coming together to rebuild after mother nature's hot embrace. Our friends lost their homes; it is common to ask a complete stranger in the grocery whether she lost anything in the fire and to receive the affirmative. We have barbecues, get haircuts, go back to work, do everything possible (and necessary) to recreate normality. Although it will be at the very least a year until even all of the rubble in the neighborhood is cleared away, it is a reminder of the force and unpredictablity of nature overlaid by the strength and resilience of community and humanity.
It is easier to forgive nature than to forgive other human beings. It is absolutely necessary to relieve the burden of anger, but anger and sorrow mingle in the first few days of tragedy. The shooting at the Dark Knight opening in Aurora also brings up shades of the past. Colorado is no stranger to homicide, nor to the indiscriminate killing of innocents, especially youth. On the news last night, the reporters asked a young man from Columbine High School, a young man who survived a massacre only to discover his sister had not. Colorado has had its fair share of school shootings - Columbine was the worst and the most memorable, not the only. Twelve people were killed at the shooting at the movie theater, the youngest only six. A former neuroscience student planned and executed the Aurora shooting. Mother nature's rampage was no comparison to human nature's.
It isn't that I don't think about what happens in our world. It isn't even that it seems far away. I think about copycat crimes and decide to stick to seeing on Disney movies in the theater. I walk outside and smell ash on the wind every day. I find, however, that such things make me realize more about myself. I have changed since I set foot on a college campus. I have come into my own, gained confidence and changed. I live in the present and have vague but hopeful hopes for the future. Hopes should be hopeful, after all. I remember well and learn from the past, but I no longer dwell on it. I take my lessons from my life and our world and I am careful, but I will not stop living. I refuse to fear public places, but I look for exits. I continue to live in dry country because disaster can happen anywhere, but I sign up for reverse 911 and get out when the smoke flies. I appreciate every day and the people who populate my world.
This summer is a summer to understand myself. I went to El Salvador and lived in the moment more than I ever do. I came home to a summer without swimming, the first in many years. I took to running, creating a bond with my sister that I have never had before. She was always too young for me and I wanted to do my own thing without a little sister in tow. Now I find her growing up and we can finally talk, and run. She hates running - maybe she does it because she is getting to know me too. I bake or cook almost every day. The dream of a bakery, a pastelería, has never dimmed. I finally made a list of what needs to be done before the end of the week and made a plan to meet my friend, computer in hand, to make both of us apply for real jobs that will take us into the real world. My room is clean, helped along by Harry Potter playing all day on my computer as I worked.
My room has had the same decorations with few additions since I was about ten years old, but it all came down and tomorrow I think the old trophies and art projects will be relegated to boxes as well. The stuffed animals hidden in a box, however, were unpacked and ranged at the head of my bed, sentinels in the night. Harry Potter came about at that stage of my life as well, and although I took down the posters, I still downloaded the books to my computer. My ten year old self still needs a little coddling with the old favorites, and I grew up with the series. Harry was my age throughout the series, and I still want desperately for that world to be real and for a letter to arrive from Hogwarts. Past and present find a balance always, and I know myself because I can recall the past, recall those moments of serenity and explosion that shaped my consciousness. What will it be like when I become old and forgetful and those easy memories no longer surface? Will I know myself?
The room change brings to mind a line - "a surface contrast that went personality deep." Although the line was in reference to two characters rather than my room and myself, it still comes to mind. Dick Francis often sneaks up with some of my favorite observations, and I often find his words flitting into my mind as I go about my daily life. It's like that game where you think of the first thing that comes to mind when you say a certain word. Dick Francis has written 43 novels, a book of short stories, an autobiography and a biography. I have read them all. He has been my most constant literary companion since I heard one of the books for the first time when my mom was listening to it on tape in the car. Throughout middle and high school I had the books on cassette checked out perpetually from the library (I know such things no longer exist, but I even had a walkman, cool kid that I was, listening to books on tape), and I bought a book every time we passed a used bookstore. I wrote summaries for myself of the novels, and put a star next to my favorites and a line next to each one I bought. I digress. Suffice it to say that I can tell you the plot of every novel, though I won't because really you should just spend a summer and read the books (or reread, as I am this summer).
This summer we were evacuated and I have never been more grateful to the friends who were our rock in moments of chaos. I came to appreciate the value of silence and solitude as well, when nothing more could be said or done. The evacuation was another realization that I want to live in the present and without regret.
We bought Palisade peaches yesterday, and there are only four left in the bag today. I watched Harry Potter and yearned to read the stories again. I ate coffee cake and cleaned. I found my camera, battered and dented by a college career spent with friends, food, sports, study and travel. Life isn't mind-blowing every day. Some days are days of contentment that need to be remembered for the memories they evoke, not the bang of excitement or horror. Past and present mingle, good and bad, until it fades to a dull thud or a faint flutter, waiting to be revived on another occasion when time slows and life stretches to infinity.
Given the dicky state of the state right now, I feel as if I should be finding fault with something in life. I realize however, that I cannot. So much has happened on a grand scale this summer, that I find myself increasingly looking towards the small things to keep life on track and quite extraordinarily happy.
This summer in Colorado we have suffered through wildfires and mass murder, reminders of our past and tragedy in the present. The wildfires were compared to the Hayman fire, until the Waldo Canyon fire destroyed 347 homes and scorched over 18,000 acres, making it the most destructive fire in Colorado history, not to mention the other fires barreling across the state like the High Park Fire. We rallied after the fire, a community coming together to rebuild after mother nature's hot embrace. Our friends lost their homes; it is common to ask a complete stranger in the grocery whether she lost anything in the fire and to receive the affirmative. We have barbecues, get haircuts, go back to work, do everything possible (and necessary) to recreate normality. Although it will be at the very least a year until even all of the rubble in the neighborhood is cleared away, it is a reminder of the force and unpredictablity of nature overlaid by the strength and resilience of community and humanity.
It is easier to forgive nature than to forgive other human beings. It is absolutely necessary to relieve the burden of anger, but anger and sorrow mingle in the first few days of tragedy. The shooting at the Dark Knight opening in Aurora also brings up shades of the past. Colorado is no stranger to homicide, nor to the indiscriminate killing of innocents, especially youth. On the news last night, the reporters asked a young man from Columbine High School, a young man who survived a massacre only to discover his sister had not. Colorado has had its fair share of school shootings - Columbine was the worst and the most memorable, not the only. Twelve people were killed at the shooting at the movie theater, the youngest only six. A former neuroscience student planned and executed the Aurora shooting. Mother nature's rampage was no comparison to human nature's.
It isn't that I don't think about what happens in our world. It isn't even that it seems far away. I think about copycat crimes and decide to stick to seeing on Disney movies in the theater. I walk outside and smell ash on the wind every day. I find, however, that such things make me realize more about myself. I have changed since I set foot on a college campus. I have come into my own, gained confidence and changed. I live in the present and have vague but hopeful hopes for the future. Hopes should be hopeful, after all. I remember well and learn from the past, but I no longer dwell on it. I take my lessons from my life and our world and I am careful, but I will not stop living. I refuse to fear public places, but I look for exits. I continue to live in dry country because disaster can happen anywhere, but I sign up for reverse 911 and get out when the smoke flies. I appreciate every day and the people who populate my world.
This summer is a summer to understand myself. I went to El Salvador and lived in the moment more than I ever do. I came home to a summer without swimming, the first in many years. I took to running, creating a bond with my sister that I have never had before. She was always too young for me and I wanted to do my own thing without a little sister in tow. Now I find her growing up and we can finally talk, and run. She hates running - maybe she does it because she is getting to know me too. I bake or cook almost every day. The dream of a bakery, a pastelería, has never dimmed. I finally made a list of what needs to be done before the end of the week and made a plan to meet my friend, computer in hand, to make both of us apply for real jobs that will take us into the real world. My room is clean, helped along by Harry Potter playing all day on my computer as I worked.
My room has had the same decorations with few additions since I was about ten years old, but it all came down and tomorrow I think the old trophies and art projects will be relegated to boxes as well. The stuffed animals hidden in a box, however, were unpacked and ranged at the head of my bed, sentinels in the night. Harry Potter came about at that stage of my life as well, and although I took down the posters, I still downloaded the books to my computer. My ten year old self still needs a little coddling with the old favorites, and I grew up with the series. Harry was my age throughout the series, and I still want desperately for that world to be real and for a letter to arrive from Hogwarts. Past and present find a balance always, and I know myself because I can recall the past, recall those moments of serenity and explosion that shaped my consciousness. What will it be like when I become old and forgetful and those easy memories no longer surface? Will I know myself?
The room change brings to mind a line - "a surface contrast that went personality deep." Although the line was in reference to two characters rather than my room and myself, it still comes to mind. Dick Francis often sneaks up with some of my favorite observations, and I often find his words flitting into my mind as I go about my daily life. It's like that game where you think of the first thing that comes to mind when you say a certain word. Dick Francis has written 43 novels, a book of short stories, an autobiography and a biography. I have read them all. He has been my most constant literary companion since I heard one of the books for the first time when my mom was listening to it on tape in the car. Throughout middle and high school I had the books on cassette checked out perpetually from the library (I know such things no longer exist, but I even had a walkman, cool kid that I was, listening to books on tape), and I bought a book every time we passed a used bookstore. I wrote summaries for myself of the novels, and put a star next to my favorites and a line next to each one I bought. I digress. Suffice it to say that I can tell you the plot of every novel, though I won't because really you should just spend a summer and read the books (or reread, as I am this summer).
This summer we were evacuated and I have never been more grateful to the friends who were our rock in moments of chaos. I came to appreciate the value of silence and solitude as well, when nothing more could be said or done. The evacuation was another realization that I want to live in the present and without regret.
We bought Palisade peaches yesterday, and there are only four left in the bag today. I watched Harry Potter and yearned to read the stories again. I ate coffee cake and cleaned. I found my camera, battered and dented by a college career spent with friends, food, sports, study and travel. Life isn't mind-blowing every day. Some days are days of contentment that need to be remembered for the memories they evoke, not the bang of excitement or horror. Past and present mingle, good and bad, until it fades to a dull thud or a faint flutter, waiting to be revived on another occasion when time slows and life stretches to infinity.
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