3 years ago
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Monday, July 19, 2010
Night Time Lullaby
I am lying in bed at 11:40pm thinking I will get an early start on sleep. Ha!! The polka music outside my window is enough to keep anyone awake. Can I really be hearing polka music? Something does not seem right. Germany is now an ocean away, but I must be dreaming that I’m back at the Hofbrauhaus in Munich. Dreams, especially ones this real, usually indicate a sleep state has been reached – yay! I cautiously open one eye to check my surroundings; small desk, Roman Holiday poster, round bed, and… polka music. No I am not sleeping, but I can’t muster up any disappointment. After all, polka music is always festive and makes one smile even if accompanied by rolling eyes and shaking heads.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Philosophy with a Hermit Crab
Despite his name, Ewan the hermit crab was usually a cheerful sort. He lived close enough to other crabs so that a chat over coffee was not an irregular occurrence, but far enough away to avoid urban claustrophobia. I would sometimes meet him on the beach for a light dinner. He would munch on his tiny seaweed morsel, and I would eat on my salad until my mouth was tired of chewing.
After one such dinner, we sat watching the tide come in. There was never much talking between the two of us, but we enjoyed a comradely time of thinking. I began skipping rocks, but somehow was irritated as the rocks skimmed the water leaving small splashes and ripples of disturbance. These ripples were disturbing the calm glassy water, it was true, but doing it in such a way as to create intricate and symmetrical designs that could seemingly go on forever. I threw in a fat round rock, obviously not the skipping kind, but it made the most satisfactory plunk; causing a commotion in the water that was felt all the way to the sandy bottom. The splash was big and irregular and even came with the sound of “kerplunk” that had no illusions of elegance and was gone in a matter of seconds.
On this particular night, my mind was restless. I was tired of thinking and not coming up with answers, or even worse, just finding new questions. I looked at Ewan who was sitting next to the driftwood, calmly collecting rocks. I knew he had answers, and so I risked a question. “What do you think about life in general?” I asked knowing that this was no skipping stone, but that Ewan was wise enough to get a few hops out of it if he wanted.
“Well, some parts of life are good,” he slowly replied, “and other parts of life are bad.” It was like he deliberately threw a big fat boulder into my mind. The “kerplunk” effectively stopped all further line of questioning. All the subjects he could have touched on with such a wide open question were swallowed up in the splash. We packed up to go and had a lively debate on the merits of claws verses fingers. The questions of life will come up in my mind again, but sometimes it is a relief to enjoy the sand, sun, water and other aspects of life without a full dissection. Incidentally, Ewan is a little sad that he cannot eat olives off the end of his claws as we can with our fingers.
After one such dinner, we sat watching the tide come in. There was never much talking between the two of us, but we enjoyed a comradely time of thinking. I began skipping rocks, but somehow was irritated as the rocks skimmed the water leaving small splashes and ripples of disturbance. These ripples were disturbing the calm glassy water, it was true, but doing it in such a way as to create intricate and symmetrical designs that could seemingly go on forever. I threw in a fat round rock, obviously not the skipping kind, but it made the most satisfactory plunk; causing a commotion in the water that was felt all the way to the sandy bottom. The splash was big and irregular and even came with the sound of “kerplunk” that had no illusions of elegance and was gone in a matter of seconds.
On this particular night, my mind was restless. I was tired of thinking and not coming up with answers, or even worse, just finding new questions. I looked at Ewan who was sitting next to the driftwood, calmly collecting rocks. I knew he had answers, and so I risked a question. “What do you think about life in general?” I asked knowing that this was no skipping stone, but that Ewan was wise enough to get a few hops out of it if he wanted.
“Well, some parts of life are good,” he slowly replied, “and other parts of life are bad.” It was like he deliberately threw a big fat boulder into my mind. The “kerplunk” effectively stopped all further line of questioning. All the subjects he could have touched on with such a wide open question were swallowed up in the splash. We packed up to go and had a lively debate on the merits of claws verses fingers. The questions of life will come up in my mind again, but sometimes it is a relief to enjoy the sand, sun, water and other aspects of life without a full dissection. Incidentally, Ewan is a little sad that he cannot eat olives off the end of his claws as we can with our fingers.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Waiting...
I hated it when she was late. There I was; waiting… waiting… Preparing the lecture I was going to give her when she deigned to show up helped pass the time. It was not fair to be so late; we had plans and a time honored schedule of traditions! Not a minute would be wasted. Yet here I was alternating between the following:
Anger – She should stick to the schedule. It was too late for someone else to fill in! If you were expected on a certain date, you should be there – or at least send the excuses – preferably with a very large bribe attached to it like tickets to Brazil.
Worry – The lateness of her arrival might have some greater cosmic meaning such as the world is off kilter and headed for a disaster beyond our imagination (not just a fallen chandelier, but a crashing of all the stars in our galaxy).
Guilt – It’s my fault that she is late. If only I drove less and rode my bike more, she would feel more comfortable and punctual.
Depression – Was she going to cancel and not come at all? This thought kept me on my couch under a blanket and cuddled up to a hot water bottle for days.
I had resigned myself to life without her when I was woken by dance steps across my face. Even after such a prolonged absence, I knew immediately that it was her tickling my face. Once again I was charmed and in love- all the words of censor, the doubt, and the impatience were gone. I threw open the windows to let her come streaming in. Summer was here and even more beautiful than I remembered her!!!!
Anger – She should stick to the schedule. It was too late for someone else to fill in! If you were expected on a certain date, you should be there – or at least send the excuses – preferably with a very large bribe attached to it like tickets to Brazil.
Worry – The lateness of her arrival might have some greater cosmic meaning such as the world is off kilter and headed for a disaster beyond our imagination (not just a fallen chandelier, but a crashing of all the stars in our galaxy).
Guilt – It’s my fault that she is late. If only I drove less and rode my bike more, she would feel more comfortable and punctual.
Depression – Was she going to cancel and not come at all? This thought kept me on my couch under a blanket and cuddled up to a hot water bottle for days.
I had resigned myself to life without her when I was woken by dance steps across my face. Even after such a prolonged absence, I knew immediately that it was her tickling my face. Once again I was charmed and in love- all the words of censor, the doubt, and the impatience were gone. I threw open the windows to let her come streaming in. Summer was here and even more beautiful than I remembered her!!!!
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