Day 94-121 : Sporadic Review to come
This blog goes out to JAR. The girl who thought writing an 8 page essay would be a breeze on a Sunday afternoon before driving back to UVA. That's a 4th year for you. Delirious on the high of her final semester, she loses all sense of time management, because the end is near, so who really cares, right JAR?
This vignette is for you.
Skirting the edge of darkened sand, recently baptized by the coming tides, my gaze falls side to side, water to sand, eyeing the encroaching waves and languidly scanning the carpet of seashells, wondering when I'll discover the gem of tranquilty I can pocket and put in my little cup of shells on my desk back in my flat. With my hobo sensiblity of beauty I pick at odd red rocks and swiggly edged shells, filling my peacoat with sponateous delights. Internal arguments flitter as I throw a shell back because it wasn't whole, it wasn't perfect. I'd already happily tossed bits and pieces of shells in my pocket, but now I was on the hunt for the queen conch. As much as I didn't want to admit that I wanted a perfect shell I did. And I combed the beach until I found it. And yes, I took it. And now it sits, heavily at the bottom of the pile of shells I have, a platform for the scraps of shells and colorful pebbles I was instantly enamored with. Hours later, I can't say I love it anymore than the others. But JAR, the vignette doesn't end here, with a search for perfection and the unsatisfying feeling of finding it. No, I was walking on the beach, with a military commander intensity gaze, eager to find more shells that I stopped listening to the ocean, that is until it reached out and snapped at my heel. Cursing my wet shoe, I shook the salt water off as I hopped up the bank, abandoning my guerilla hunt momentarily. When I took a moment to shut up the waves continued to rhythmically hush me. And then I realized I was watching an epiphany occur. Again and again. The wave rushes into the shore, like the light of an epiphany and then the white fringe runs up the shore and the water balances over the sand, fully exposed, drenching the shore in foreign water, just like the idea rising to the surface of consciousness, hitting your brain, stretching itself out in perfect clarity for a moment. Then the wave pulls back and in a grand rush, leaving a momentary silence, a breathless calm, like the flood of relief at the realization of a long coming epiphany. And just as the wave pulls back, so does the curtain of ignorance and you realize what you hadn't before. And then the wave comes back, just as little thoughts come and quake the mind, because like small eddies in the current, a trail of thoughts winds through the reservoir of new found realizations. An epiphany changes everything, like the wave shaping the shoreline.
The obvious epiphany : Procastination means shooting yourself in the foot. It hurts and little progress is made. (no this was not taken from the vignette JAR, this was just a 'no shit' epiphany for you, especially)
The subtle epiphany: Wholeness can be found in disparate pieces.
But now that you all have left me again, I'm back to grasping at a sense of self from memories of times when I a part of you all.
love you and miss you.
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