November 13th, 2003


Autumn story and momentary reflection...

This short story, or vignette, was given by somebody very dear to me in March of this year. I spent a good deal of time thinking about posting it right away and really had to struggle not to immediately do so. I had wanted very much to post the story because it was a gift, and it is a natural reaction to want to share one's good fortune with others when such is bestowed upon them. Ultimately I decided against sharing it just then, and I'm glad that I chose that path. At the time I felt that it would be more appropriate to reveal it later, when the season and the story more closely matched. I believe I was right.

Time has since passed in that fluid way it has, gliding past us as a mixture of fleeting moments that don't last long enough and days that seem almost without end. Now we are later in the year -- it's November, and for many of us in the United States the weather is once more at a turning point. We find ourselves precariously balanced between Autumn and Winter, the winds moving craftily around us to bring hints of the fierce blizzards and biting cold that lie in wait while there are still leaves falling from the trees. It's an interesting time of year, and in a way I imagine it almost like we are standing in a hallway. Behind us is the doorway through which we came, and if we look back over our shoulders we can see the burning red and gold of the fall colors and smell the tangy scent of bonfires. Ahead of us is the doorway through which we must pass, and if we look carefully we can see our breath suspended in the air over a glinting white blanket of ice. We know we can't go backwards -- there's no space in the hall to turn around -- but we can surely go towards the next doorway as slowly as possible. Or can we? There's a certain lure to it, as if there is a siren song that none of us can resist. It is patiently sung and draws us steadily towards the next threshold despite our intentions otherwise. Perhaps in our hearts we know from years past that the march forward is inescapable, and so we ultimately succumb because we understand that to try and fight is a fool's errand.

We sat, as the world turned. First there was the green, oh the vibrant green. We gazed at each other, and the world was held within. There was no end to the rushing stream of feeling that ran between us. We lingered on, and the world turned. The leaves grew full, the branches laden with fruit. Everywhere, there was the sound and movement of life abundant. We shared the fruit, as we did all things, and there was abundance to spare. We tarried on, and the world turned. The leaves grew red, and gold... the wind whispered, and the leaves roared quietly. We were as one, the quietest time as we looked back, and ahead. We stayed too long, and the world turned. Winter came, and all was bare. Things had grown, borne fruit and passed away. We parted, as all things must.

Perhaps it's a story my mother would call "bitter sweet," but I still love it regardless. When I first received it I was amazed how readily the words crafted images for me, how quickly they could invoke memories of a time not long past. I suppose it's natural that it also appealed to me on a wholly different level, as a metaphor to help make concrete one of the things I was struggling with the most at the time. Now those reasons still hold true, but there is a new and even more important reason that I find this vignette so moving: it characterizes the inevitable cycle we follow throughout our lives. When I read those few sentences I'm reminded how when this one thing ended several new things arose. Yes, that season saw the termination of one relationship... but in its passing it opened the way to a new, better love as well as a multitude of new friends.
  • Current Music
    Digitally Imported -- European Trance & Techno

(no subject)

Have you ever lost or misplaced something like your TV remote and then been possessed by a burning desire to find it? I'm not talking "motivated," I'm talking "borderline obsessive-compulsive, can't-sleep-clowns-will-eat-me-if-I-rest-before-this-is-resolved" absolute need.

I'm having one of those moments right now.

See, a few days ago I misplaced the little remote control that is responsible for turning the lamp that resides atop my bedroom nightstand on and off. This was a minor inconvenience at first, but I figured I could get along well enough without it. Tonight, however, that verdict has been reversed and now I'm going out of my mind trying to figure out where it disappeared to. I'm slowly dismantling my bedroom and I know I'm not going to rest until I find it. So help me, I swear that if I have to stay awake until I run the risk of being late for work on Friday morning I will find that damnable gadget. I can't turn my lamp on without it, and this has become utterly unacceptable since I purchased Wolves of the Calla (Dark Tower V) tonight. If I try to read it using only the light cast by my dresser lamp I will ruin my eyesight even further.

If you'll excuse me I have to go back to tossing my bedroom like a prison warden searching a cellblock for contraband.

I question everything
  • Current Music
    Joe Jackson -- Look Sharp


I'm sweaty, disheveled and dirty but I found that damnable remote! Sure, the bedroom is now in an even worse state of disarray than when I began. Sure, Ra's hiding in his litterbox and whimpering in terror. Sure, I had to subject myself and the bedroom to more than ninety-five minutes of pure torture (I had been ransacking for quite some time before the last entry) but I finally found it!!!

I can die a happy man now.

  • Current Music
    R.E.M. -- King of Comedy