Tuesday, July 24, 2007

The best of friends have a knack of gently showing you the error of your ways, without actually coming out and saying that you're misguided. Or maybe it's the love of a friend that fills you with enough love for yourself that you can see yourself more clearly. Regardless, I had a long conversation with my ex-goingtobe-roomie-currently-entering-theDominicans last night, and I might have my head on straight now. My love belongs to everyone around me because it's within me to give it. Love might have been more easy to offer at Bethany, where we talked immediately about real things, but love can still be offered in listening to someone talk about such seemingly-pointless things as Harry Potter. Time to start applying what I learned instead of spending all my time missing a place I can't go back to any time soon. Thanks, whoever reads this, for not just saying that to my face- I wouldn't have understood yet.

1 comment:

  1. The wonderful thing about experience is that we can always carry it with us and use it, especially when we least expect a need for it. I don't fully grasp what you are struggling with, but then again, I probably don't have to in order to empathize with change and wonder, and all of the paradoxes that define the human experience. Those paradoxes of our existence, though, are the defining elements of our humanity. When we can have a fleeting moment of joy in our deepest despair, or a pang of guilt or hurt in our most joyous celebration, then we are being human. It's a wonderful and mysterious thing. Enjoying a moment of mindless and shallow behavior, whether it is indulging an afternoon of reading for pleasure or sitting quietly in an air-conditioned bedroom full of memories from younger days does not dishonor the good work you did this summer, nor does it reflect on your desire to be a part of the changes in the world you seem called to tackle. Instead, it is a respite from the hard work (in the past and ahead). I suspect that you felt a part of this change in New York, and now find yourself NOT a part of something great back home, but every moment in your life, whether it is spent in what seems trivial pursuits or lofty ones, ultimately contribute to the base of experiences from which you will draw later. Who knows, maybe your extensive knowledge of Optimus Prime, gleaned from a passing conversation that you half tune-out because, frankly, who ever really listens to our little brothers, may come in handy later when you need to set someone at ease, and THAT was the common ground you found. Think about this--those folks you became so close to this summer, want, aspire to, and yet lack what you have returned to. Crazy, isn't it? What made you so lucky to have the security of growing up in a stable, middle class family?

    What can you learn from this to temper your compassion for the future?