Steve told me a story about his childhood. He was running and he knocked his shin against a concrete block. He thought hmm, my leg doesn't feel quite right. Lifted up his jeans to discover a cut, a slice right to his bone. It didn't even bleed. The flesh just parted. And in the sunlight, the bone was the most white material on earth. Almost supernaturally flourescent white. It glowed. He was compelled to stick his finger on the bone, to touch it.I've been thinking a lot lately about experience vs. concept. For much of my life I've had a concept of particular things and events: death, career, friendship, love. The crucible of adult experience has strengthened some of my concepts and obliterated others. I have this idea that a lot of my generation's outlook is based on conflated nostalgia. That we are removed from real experience, that we take one single walk in the park with a parent and conflate it into this whole meaningful experience: Oh, yes, I used to walk in the park with my parent. When actually it only happened once. (This is just an example.)
A friend once explained to me that he couldn't get any satisfaction. He'd go to nightclubs, shows - anything to try to feel happy. From event to event. But he couldn't feel anything.
I yearn for days and days, continuity with friends, multiple lifetimes with my friends. I yearn for a common experience about which we can talk and remember. I relate to the vibrant fading planet, to long walks. To pleasure of skin and lungs and air. To agreements made between two people. I relate to people who have done things, who know the scope of things. To my companion who bangs around in his loosely constructed truck.**
Listening to a series of philosophy lectures, "Self Under Siege." The gist of the lectures is about how to establish meaning, identity, outlook in the post-modern era.
One of the initial philosophers discussed is Heidegger. Heidegger's ideas seem particularly pertinent to our adventure:
1. Humans are abandoned to the "they," to initial circumstance. We are "thrown" into this life. The lecturer makes a point that many of an individual's values are actually societal values which the individual just thoughtlessly adopts.
2. Until we face nothingness, we fill our lives with business.
3. Ideally, we are to be free for our projects. This is the great endeavour, the grand stanza.
Steve and I are trying to act as our own agents in this world, on our own authority.
Until recently, I had followed the path of least resistance. I fell into my cog: career, family. I've always had this idea that I would travel in Europe, that I would meet intellectuals, artists, poets. I had a false idea that someone would give this to me, that I wouldn't have to pursue it. That the path would just open forth.
Steve says you have to go to the bridge. The bridge don't come to you.
People assume that they have to wait for all conditions to be perfect before trying to pursue a dream. Conditions will never be perfect. Steve is hopefully recovering from cancer, but even if he isn't recovered, we have to pursue our goal. We are not going to wait and wait and wait.
On a more practical note: we do want to have regular checkups of Steve's throat while in Europe. I'm wondering which European countries have the least expensive healthcare. Is it possible to get radiation therapy in Eastern Europe? If anyone out there has information about this, please contact me.
I WHO PART LEAF IN DREAM
How often do you
see an angry fly or the
shadow of gravel?
We who roar by on the highways
On this walk,
and the day is suddenly warm,
makes a perfume of the foliage
and Sky Pappy is all clear,
the silent slice of a bird's
straight line through the blue--
Who is more awake?
The bird or the man who just
chunked by in his truck, off to his
industriousness?
I think the insects are
more awake, bumbling
about in their outside business
Would I, outside all the time
become drugged?
Is it only the sharp splash
into a pool that thrills?
Can this shiny world keep shining
please?
I who part leaf in dream
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