consolation

How agreeable it is not to be touring Italy this summer,
wandering her cities and ascending her torrid hilltowns.
How much better to cruise these local, familiar streets,
fully grasping the meaning of every roadsign and billboard
and all the sudden hand gestures of my compatriots.

There are no abbeys here, no crumbling frescoes or famous
domes and there is no need to memorize a succession
of kings or tour the dripping corners of a dungeon.
No need to stand around a sarcophagus, see Napoleon's
little bed on Elba, or view the bones of a saint under glass.

How much better to command the simple precinct of home
than be dwarfed by pillar, arch, and basilica.
Why hide my head in phrase books and wrinkled maps?
Why feed scenery into a hungry, one-eyes camera
eager to eat the world one monument at a time?

Instead of slouching in a café ignorant of the word for ice,
I will head down to the coffee shop and the waitress
known as Dot. I will slide into the flow of the morning
paper, all language barriers down,
rivers of idiom running freely, eggs over easy on the way.

And after breakfast, I will not have to find someone
willing to photograph me with my arm around the owner.
I will not puzzle over the bill or record in a journal
what I had to eat and how the sun came in the window.
It is enough to climb back into the car

as if it were the great car of English itself
and sounding my loud vernacular horn, speed off
down a road that will never lead to Rome, not even Bologna.

"Consolation" by Billy Collins

atonement trailer

Her memories of the interrogation and signed statements and testimony, or of her awe outside the courtroom from which her youth excluded her, would not trouble her so much in the years to come as her fragmented recollection of that late night and summer dawn. How guilt refined the methods of self-torture, threading the beads of detail into an eternal loop, a rosary to be fingered for a lifetime.

Again, from McEwan's Atonement.

happy holidays

Happy Holidays!

atonement

She could imagine herself hurrying down now to her bedroom, to a clean block of lined paper and her marbled, Bakelite fountain pen. She could see the simple sentences, the accumulating telepathic symbols, unfurling at the nib's end. She could write the scene three times over, from three points of view; her excitement was in the prospect of freedom, of being delivered from the cumbrous struggle between good and bad, heroes and villains. None of these three was bad, nor were they particularly good. She need not judge. There did not have to be a moral. She need only show separate minds, as equally alive. It wasn't only wickedness and scheming that made people unhappy, it was confusion and misunderstanding; above all, it was the failure to grasp the simple truth that other people are as real as you. And only in a story could you enter these different minds and show how they had an equal value. That was the only moral a story need have.

An early passage from Atonement by Ian McEwan.

decade of favorites

2007: The Lives of Others, Once
2006: The Fountain, Little Miss Sunshine
2005: V for Vendetta
2004: Closer, Before Sunset
2003: City of God
2002: Adaptation
2001: Amelie
2000: Wonder Boys, Almost Famous
1999: American Beauty, Magnolia
1998: Life is Beautiful, Elizabeth
These are movies that I can watch over and over again, back-to-back in a marathon. They are quotable; they are memorable. These movies changed the way I view the world; however slight it may be, they changed me. And they continue to change me every time I watch them.

Note: I wrote this post because I highly value my opinion... even though I realize now, in writing, how sentimental that opinion may be.

tonight

come around and say you love me.
hang your heart in lights above me.
(is that too much to ask for?)
when the night descends upon us,
take a shower, dry your hair by the furnace.
i'll watch you from the corner.

telephones and old typewriters,
words of love along the wires.
let's make it work tonight.
telegraphs and birds that fly
through air so still you hear me sigh.
let's make it work tonight.
(tonight, tonight.)

then furious you threw the picture,
eye cap in hand; an awful mixture.
that kind of hard love is the worst.
i try to speak but you don't hear me.
when you're gone you still feel near me for a while.
(for a little while.)

i've tried telephones and old typewriters, words of love along the wires,
but nothing is working tonight.
i've tried telegraphs and birds that fly through air so still you hear me sigh.
(but nothing is working tonight.)
tonight... please let's make it work tonight.
please, let's make it work tonight, tonight...

"tonight," by stars

eight minutes

Eight minutes of writing. An eternity. Eight stars of a nameless constellation burning themselves out. The eight songs that a mockingbird can sing. Eight blossoms on the ends of eight small stems that have arisen in the eight days of spring. The eight lords of light, who praise the eight lords of darkness, who praise the eight lords of twilight, who praise the eight lords of light. The eight pictures of my black and white childhood. Eight clear rivers that leap from eight mountains to form eight sacred, calm lakes that harbor thought and consciousness. Eight moments of doubt. Eight moments of certainty. And between them the eight moments of transition, the eight connections to eight different realities, the alternate buddhas I might have been, might be, might become, might never see. Eight simple breaths drawn in and exhaled eight times. Eight types of noise surrounded by the eight types of silence, which finally engulfs all eight forms of being and not being.

This number is arbitrary, but yet it feels true in all things and it displays impermanence. The sum of all earthly numbers, reduced at last to the single, wavering note of a bell, vibrating with the harmony of a great breathing into all the selves and all the not selves a universe can hold.

Mike Pfeiffer, A Special Edition of Dharma Life.
Photograph by Eddie Horgan.

practical magic

All the same, it was Sally who wouldn't bathe or eat or play pattycake with her baby. Sally was the one who cried so many tears there were morning when she couldn't open her eyes. Each evening she searched the dining room for the deathwatch beetle who'd been said to have caused all this grief. Of course she never found it and so she didn't believe in it. But such things hide, in the folds of a widow's black skirts and beneath the white sheets where one person sleeps, restlessly dreaming of everything she'll never have. In time, Sally stopped believing in anything at all, and then the whole world went gray. She could not see orange or red, and certain shades of green -- her favorite sweater and the leaves of new daffodils -- were completely and utterly lost.

My favorite passage from my favorite book:
Alice Hoffman's Practical Magic

the golden compass

The Golden Compass does not "preach atheism" - an ironic, and slightly amusing, accusation. The following is an interview with author Philip Pullman, who discusses and explains the themes in the "His Dark Materials" trilogy.


How do you respond to the claim that your books are anti-Catholic and promote atheism? Lyndsay Petersen, Parkersburg, Iowa

Hello, Lyndsay: In the world of the story — Lyra’s world — there is a church that has acquired great political power, rather in the way that some religions in our world have done at various times, and still do (think of the Taliban in Afghanistan). My point is that religion is at its best — it does most good — when it is farthest away from political power, and that when it gets hold of the power to (for example) send armies to war or to condemn people to death, or to rule every aspect of our lives, it rapidly goes bad. Sometimes people think that if something is done in the name of faith or religion, it must be good. Unfortunately, that isn’t true; some things done in the name of religion are very bad. That was what I was trying to describe in my story.

I think the qualities that the books celebrate are those such as kindness, love, courage and courtesy too. And intellectual curiosity. All these good things. And the qualities that the books attack are cold-heartedness, tyranny, close-mindedness, cruelty, the things that we all agree are bad things.

Is there an underlying message for atheism in your book or did you simply want to write a fantasy story, like Tolkien? Kim Mapstead, Friday Harbor, Wash.

Hello, Kim: What I was mainly doing, I hope, was telling a story, but not a story like Tolkien’s. (To be honest I don’t much care for “The Lord of the Rings.”) As for the atheism, it doesn’t matter to me whether people believe in God or not, so I’m not promoting anything of that sort. What I do care about is whether people are cruel or whether they’re kind, whether they act for democracy or for tyranny, whether they believe in open-minded enquiry or in shutting the freedom of thought and expression. Good things have been done in the name of religion, and so have bad things; and both good things and bad things have been done with no religion at all. What I care about is the good, wherever it comes from.

The rest of the (brief) interview can be read here.

But if an explanation from an atheist doesn't suffice, I recommend reading pastor Marc Pitman's blog entry, suggesting that Christians read great literature regardless of whether or not they agree with the author's viewpoint. Compass, like LOTR or Chronicles, is science fiction, after all, taking place in a world similar to our own, but not our own. (Pitman's wife also wrote an interesting three-part entry on The Golden Compass: a rebuttal, a review, and a rant.

And here, Philip Nel, among others, makes compelling arguments on Pullman's behalf. Intelligent responses, I say.

before sunset

Jesse: In the months leading up to my wedding, I was thinking about you all the time. I mean, even on my way there; I'm in the car, a buddy of mine is driving me downtown and I'm staring out the window, and I think I see you, not far from the church, right? Folding up an umbrella and walking into a deli on the corner of 13th and Broadway. And I thought I was going crazy, but now I think it probably was you.
Celine: I lived on 11th and Broadway.
Jesse: You see?

Jesse: I heard this story once about when the Germans were occupying Paris and they had to retreat back. They wired Notre Dame to blow, but they had to leave one guy in charge of hitting the switch. And the guy, the soldier, he couldn't do it. You know, he just sat there, knocked out by how beautiful the place was. And then when the allied troops came in, they found all the explosives just lying there and the switch unturned, and they found the same thing at Sacre Couer, Eiffel Tower. Couple other places I think...
Celine: Is that true?
Jesse: I don't know. I always liked the story, though.


Jesse: Oh, God, why weren't you there, in Vienna?
Celine: I told you why.
Jesse: Well, I know why, I just - I wish you would have been. Our lives might have been so much different.
Celine: You think so?
Jesse: I actually do.
Celine: Maybe not. Maybe, we would have hated each other eventually.
Jesse: Oh what, like we hate each other now?
Celine: You know, maybe we're - we're only good at brief encounters, walking around in European cities in warm climate.

Jesse: You want to know why I wrote that stupid book?
Celine: Why?
Jesse: So that you might come to a reading in Paris and I could walk up to you and ask, "Where the fuck were you?"
Celine: [laughing] No - you thought I'd be here today?
Jesse: I'm serious. I think I wrote it, in a way, to try to find you.
Celine: Okay, that's - I know that's not true, but that's sweet of you to say.
Jesse: I think it is true.

postsecret: ix

postsecret

audrey hepburn

vertigo

Scottie is more of a tyrant than a lover, and the palpable cruelty of what he is doing is constantly underscored by her recurring pleas that he love her as she is. Unfortunately, Judy, though she understands too well that there is something profoundly flawed in her relationship with Scottie, cannot resist him. She becomes an enabler, facilitating the projective fantasy with which Scottie burdens her. She is thus participating in her own spiritual death as an individual with a claim to be loved for herself – a plight perhaps symbolized by her literal fall from the tower.

Noel Carroll, from his paper "Vertigo and the Pathologies of Romantic Love"

steve mccurry

The following photographs by the amazing Steve Curry. Please visit his wonderful website to view more photographs and to purchase prints and posters.

new seeds of contemplation

When we are alone on a starlit night; when by chance we see the migrating birds in autumn descending on a grove of junipers to rest and eat; when we see children in a moment when they are really children; when we know love in our own hearts; or when, like the Japanese poet Basho, we hear an old frog land in a quiet pond with a solitary splash - at such times the awakening, the turning inside out of all values, the newness, the emptiness and the purity of vision that make themselves evident, provide a glimpse of the cosmic dance.

Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation

I'm back, but won't be posting quite as often.

leave

I can't wait forever is all that you said
Before you stood up
And you won't disappoint me
I can do that myself
But I'm glad that you've come
Now if you don't mind

Leave, leave,
And free yourself at the same time
Leave, leave,
I don't understand, you've already gone

And I hope you feel better
Now that it's out
What took you so long
And the truth has a habit
Of falling out of your mouth
But now that it's come
If you don't mind

Leave, leave,
And please yourself at the same time
Leave, leave,
Let go of my hand
You said what you have to now
Leave, leave,
Let go of my hand
You said what you came to now
Leave, leave,
Leave, leave,
Let go of my hand
You said what you have to now
Leave, leave...

From the film Once. Lyrics by the amazing Glen Hansard,
pictured above with co-star Marketa Irglova.

Taking a break for a while...

dreams and time

Being with you and not being with you is the only way I have to measure time.
Jorge Borges

Science doesn't interest me. It doesn't take into account dreams, chance, laughter, emotion and contradiction, things that are precious to me.
Luis Bunuel

If a little dreaming is dangerous, the cure for it is not to dream less but to dream more, to dream all the time.
Marcel Proust

reminiscences of our sanest hour

Each new year is a surprise to us. We find that we had virtually forgotten the note of each bird, and when we hear it again it is remembered like a dream, reminding us of a previous state of existence. How happens it that the associations it awakens are always pleasing, never saddening; reminiscences of our sanest hours? The voice of nature is always encouraging.

Henry David Thoreau

bird people

If bird people
were the world
our lives would
span continents.
We would fly from
land to land
and wing across
the sparkling seas.

We would carry
our possessions
and our homes
along with us,
woven from alloys
featherweight yet
with the tensile
strength of steel.

We would settle
in pairs to take
our mates for life.

In some quiet inlet
we would watch
our fledglings leap
from the cliffs
in first flight.

We would create
music to fill
the skies and
temper the air
with beauty.

We would never
lose our sense
of direction.

And we would soon
find the stars
and other worlds
beyond our own.

Bruce Boston, "Bird People"

that i must wear armor

Why am I afraid to dance, I who love music and rhythm and song and laughter?
Why am I afraid to live, I who love life
and the beauty of flesh and the living colors of earth and sea and sky?
Why am I afraid to love, I who love?
Why am I afraid, I who am not afraid?
Why must I pretend to scorn in order to pity?
Why must I hide myself in self-contempt in order to understand?
Why must I be so ashamed of my strength, so proud of my weakness?
Why must I live in a cage like a criminal, defying and hating, I who love peace and friendship?
Why was I born without a skin? Oh God, that I must wear armor in order to touch or be touched.

Eugene O'Neill

doing away with happiness and sadness

Miserably cold, the temple before dawn,
Still and lonely, few monks to be seen;
The temple is old, with soot-blackened walls,
The pond overgrown, its surface like folds in a robe;
Incense before the Buddha has burned, gone out, turned cold,
The sermon over, blossoms fly in the rain;
I've reached the point of doing away with happiness
and sadness -
A white board door swinging to and fro in the breeze.

Gido Shushin

attend the tale of sweeney todd

postsecret: viii

postsecret

lessons from dr. boroto: part i

"When the Summer Sun Fades Away," also by Aiecd.
1. Relationships should not be 50-50, with each person meeting the other halfway. Instead, relationships should be 100-100, with each person giving 100%.

2. When someone says "thank you," it is impolite to reply with "no problem" because it devalues their thank you. Always say “you’re welcome.”

3. Relationships need two things in order to work. One, both parties must agree to tell the truth, and then to clean it up when they haven’t. Two, both parties must agree upon goals for the relationship. The goals do not have to be the same, but both parties must support the goals.

4. Saying “when the time is right” is an excuse for not saying something. The time is always right when it’s never right.

5. Remember to constantly ask yourself, “What is more important: being right, or getting the job done?”

6. Always act intentionally, and intent requires awareness. If the outcome matches the intentions, then you are successful.

7. The second most powerful reinforcer is being right and avoiding being wrong. We are quick to blame others. Instead of saying “you are annoying me,” one should say, “I am annoyed by your actions.” Do not place the blame elsewhere. (The single most powerful reinforcer is attention.)

8. Self-righteousness and intimacy are mutually exclusive. We don’t like to be intimate in fear that it would give our partners more power over us. You can’t be intimate if you’re making the other person wrong.

9. All unhappiness comes from the single statement: “Things should not be this way.”

lessons from dr. boroto: part ii

"Say Goodbye to a Stranger," by Aiecd.
10. 98% of responsible relationships is listening. You must even listen to yourself speak in order to hear what others are hearing. If your message does not come across, do not say “I didn’t say that.” Instead, say, “I did not intend to say that.” Continue to listen, continue to try.

11. Most of our anxiety is the result of pretensiousness. We want others to think of us differently than how we really are, so put on façades. We lie about ourselves and then experience anxiety because we’re waiting to be caught.

12. Don’t tell your best friend that her boyfriend is cheating on her. You’re not God, and your actions take away his chances of confessing to her. Plus, those being cheated on always know; they may not know the details, but they know there is a perpetration in the relationship.

13. If you look for something wrong with someone, you will always find it.

14. The Uniformity Myth – We assume that people think like us… or that they should.

15. Change and stimulation create upset (negative feelings that show up unexpectedly). Even positive change can be upsetting. Grief is the realization of lost opportunities, and we want all things possible at any given moment, which is why making decisions is so hard.

16. It is hard for people to simply “be with” one another.

17. Judgements about other people says nothing about those people, only about the evaluator. Judgements show the evaluator’s standards and their willingness to be generous or petty. Negative judgements are influenced by lack of sleep, poor eating habits, and a polluted social environment.

18. You don’t have to feel ready to do something. There are some things we will never be ready for.

lessons from dr. boroto: part iii

As an undergrad, I took a Psychology of Adjustment class under the guidance of Dr. Boroto, and it changed my life. I never missed a class, and I took notes as if my life depended on it. He showed me how to diminish anxiety, how to truly and unselfishly love another, and how withheld communication is always bad. The following are, in no particular order, some of the insights I learned from this wise and generous man.

"Rainbow Strokes" by Holly Siek.
19. Pain is physical; suffering is psychological. Suffering comes from resisting your experience. You can have pain with suffering, pain without suffering, and you can have pain or suffering. The only way to get rid of anxiety is to experience it.

20. Do not keep withheld communication. It is insulting to the other person, and it drains the relationship of energy. Withheld communication is an incompletion, and it is a broken implied agreement.

21. In our culture, we promote guilt. Instead of feeling guilty, make an effective apology. Feeling guilty doesn’t solve anything.

22. Do not give any advice. Do not take any advice either. Solutions require responsibility, and people need to be responsible for their own actions.

23. Anxiety is the anticipation of pain or discomfort. It requires future-orientation, so, by focusing on the present, one can relieve anxiety.

24. To be lazy is to be selfish.

25. In relationships, do not start talking until the other person is physically, mentally, and emotionally available. Also, do not start a conversation unnless you are physically, mentally, and emotionally available. Communication is a function of intention.

26. The only way to make a good decision is to know the outcome, and no one has enough information for that. So, a good decision is one that you are willing to take responsibility for.

27. When you tell the truth, no one is wrong.

threadless

I just bought some shirts from Threadless.

I do love movies.

I really love zombies.

This last one is my favorite. I had to buy it.
I've made every single one of these wishes on a star at some point.

in his eyes

Art: "Duels at Neo" by Autumn Goddess.

EMMA:
If I'm wise,
I will walk away,
And gladly...

LUCY:
But, sadly,
I'm not wise,
It's hard to talk away
The mem'ries that you prize!

EMMA:
Love is worth forgiving for!

LUCY:
Now I realize -

LUCY/EMMA:
Everything worth living for
Is there, in his eyes!

From the beautiful musical Jekyll and Hyde,
music by Frank Wildhorn and book
and lyrics by Leslie Bricusse.

It's finally available on iTunes!

because you don't even have to try

Juno: I think I'm, like, in love with you.
Paulie: You mean as friends?
Juno: No, I mean, like, for real. 'Cause you're, like, the coolest person I've ever met, and you don't even have to try, you know...
Paulie: I try really hard, actually.

From the upcoming film Juno.

but fear not...

Our bodies are prisons for our souls. Our skin and blood, the iron bars of confinement. But fear not. All flesh decays. Death turns all to ash. And thus, death frees every soul.

From the film The Fountain.

tapestry

My life has been a tapestry
Of rich and royal hue;
An everlasting vision
Of the ever-changing view;
A wond'rous woven magic
In bits of blue and gold;
A tapestry to feel and see;
Impossible to hold.

Once amid the soft silver
Sadness in the sky,
There came a man of fortune;
A drifter passing by.
He wore a torn and tattered cloth
Around his leathered hide
And a coat of many colors;
Yellow, green, on either side.

He moved with some uncertainty
As if he didn't know
Just what he was there for
Or where he ought to go.
Once he reached for something
Golden hanging from a tree
And his hand came down emp-ty.

Soon within my tapestry,
Along the rutted road,
He sat down on a river rock
And turned into a toad.
It seemed that he had fallen
Into someone's wicked spell
And I wept to see him suffer,
Though I didn't know him well.

As I watched in sorrow,
There suddenly appeared
A figure gray and ghostly
Beneath a flowing beard.
In times of deepest darkness
I've seen him dressed in black.
Now my tapestry's unraveling;
He's come to take me back.
He's come to take me back.

Carole King, "Tapestry"

arrested development

[Lucille replaces Lupe with a robot vacuum cleaner, then catches Buster in bed with it]
Buster: Well, what do you expect, mother? [holds up his hook] I'm half machine! I'm a monster!

Wife of Gob: I'm in love with your brother-in-law.
Gob: You're in love with your own brother? The one in the army?
Wife of Gob: No. Your sister's husband.
Gob: Michael? Michael.
Wife of Gob: No. That's your sister's brother.
Gob: No, I'm my sister's brother. You're in love with me? Me.
Wife of Gob: I'm in love with Tobias.
Gob: My brother-in-law?
Wife of Gob: I know it can never be, so I'm leaving. I'm enlisting in the army.
Gob: To be with your brother?
Wife of Gob: No.


Steve Holt!: I've made a huge mistake.
Gob: I know the feeling. I had you. I'm your father, Steve Holt. I can't hide from it any more.
Steve Holt!: I won't forget this... Dad.
Gob: [swallows roofie] I will. I will.


Tobias Fünke: [as British Mrs. Featherbottom] Okay, who'd like a banger in the mouth? [laughs] Right, I forgot, here in the States, you call it a *sausage* in the mouth.
Michael: We just call it a sausage.

Rita: And they think the stupidest things are funny.
Michael Bluth: Yeah, that's a cultural problem is what it is. You know, your average American male is in a perpetual state of adolescence, you know, arrested development.
Narrator: Hey. That's the name of the show.


Narrator: For the first time, Lucille prays...
Lucille: [praying] Take something else from us. Do whatever you have to to keep my boy from going to war.
Narrator: And Buster is on his way when he decides to pursue a long-delayed rite of passage...
[Buster swims in the ocean]
Passerby: Loose seal! Watch out for loose seal!
Buster: [thinking he means Lucille] I don't care about Lucille. She lies.
Narrator: ...and then a seal bites off his hand.
Lucille: Amen.

lucy in the sky with diamonds

Picture yourself in a boat on a river,
With tangerine trees and marmalade skies
Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly,
A girl with kaleidoscope eyes.

Cellophane flowers of yellow and green,
Towering over your head.
Look for the girl with the sun in her eyes,
And she's gone.

"Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds," the Beatles, opening lines.

half-full or half-empty?

When asked if my cup is half-full or half-empty, my only response is that I am thankful I have a cup.

Samuel Lefkowitz

stars, songs, faces

Gather the stars if you wish it so.
Gather the songs and keep them.
Gather the faces of women.
Gather for keeping years and years.

And then …
Loosen your hands, let go and say good-bye.
Let the stars and songs go.
Let the faces and years go.
Loosen your hands and say good-bye.

Carl Sandburg

frankenstein's monster

Of what a strange nature is knowledge! It clings to the mind, when it has once seized on it, like a lichen on the rock. I wished sometimes to shake off all thought and feeling; but I learned that there was but one means to overcome the sensation of pain, and that was death -- a state which I feared but did not understand. I admired virtue and good feelings, and loved the gentle manners and amiable qualities of my cottagers; but I was shut out from intercourse with them, except through means which I obtained by stealth, when I was unseen and unknown, and which rahter increased than satisfied the desire I had of becoming one among my fellows. The gentle words of Agatha, and the animated smile of the charming Arabian, were not for me. The mild exhortations of the old man, and the lively conversation of the loved Felix, were not for me. Miserable, unhappy wretch!

The Monster's account of how he, more or less, became human.
From Mary Shelley's Frankenstein.

gondry: bachelorette

Bjork's "Bachelorette,"
directed by the ingenious Michel Gondry.

happiness

Stephen L. Miller
The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quiet, alone with the heavens, nature and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy, amidst the simple beauty of nature.

Anne Frank

star of bethlehem

"Winters' Jewels" by This Year's Girl
We cannot begin perfectly... there is confusion, messiness, untidiness - and constant dichotomy, constant reference point. But at least, we are moving in the direction of unconditional being. We are gazing at the star of Bethlehem on the horizon. It is far, far away, but still there is hope. A spark of luminosity is there. The land may be dark, the sky may be gray and black. It might be chilly, and we might be cold, uncomfortable, tired, and restless. But nevertheless, the star of Bethlehem is over there. Human beings hope. The final hope that human beings could ever be hopeful of is enlightenment, the star of Bethlehem on the horizon.

The Path is the Goal: A Basic Handbook of Buddhist Meditation,
The Star of Bethlehem, edited by Sherab Chodzin

the office: the kiss

In honor of Season 3's premiere tonight,
I give you... "The Kiss":

I set my clock by The Office.
And so should you.

einstein's dreams: 14 may 1905

Those not quite at dead center do indeed move, but at the pace of glaciers. A brush of the hair might take a year, a kiss might take a thousand. While a smile is returned, seasons pass in the outer world. While a child is hugged, bridges rise. While a goodbye is said, cities crumble and are forgotten.

And those who return to the outer world... Children grow rapidly, forget the centuries-long embrace from their parents, which to them lasted but seconds. Children become adults, live far from their parents, live in their own houses, learn ways of their own, suffer, pain, grow old. Children curse their parents for trying to hold them forever, curse time for their own wrinkled skin and hoarse voices. These now old children also want to stop time, but at another time. They want to freeze their own children at the center of time.

Lovers who return find their friends are long gone. After all, lifetimes have passed. They move in a world they do not recognize. Lovers who return still embrace in the shadows of buildings, but now their embraces seem empty and alone. Soon they forget the centuries-long promises, which to them lasted only seconds. They become jealous even among strangers, say hateful things to each other, lose passion, drift apart, grow old and alone in a world they do not know.

Some say it is best not to go near the center of time. Life is a vessel of sadness, but it is noble to live life, and without time there is no life. Others disagree. They would rather have an eternity of contentment, even if that eternity were fixed and frozen, like a butterfly mounted in a case.

"14 May 1905" excerpt #3, from Einstein's Dreams by Alan Lightman.

einstein's dreams: 14 may 1905

And so, at the place where time stands still, one sees parents clutching their children, in a frozen embrace that will never let go. The beautiful young daughter with blue eyes and blond hair will never stop smiling the smile she smiles now, will never lose this soft pink glow on her cheeks, will never grow wrinkled or tired, will never get injured, will never unlearn what her parents have taught her, will never know evil, will never leave her room with the view of the ocean, will never stop touching her parents as she does now.

And at the place where time stands still, one sees lovers kissing in the shadows of buildings, in a frozen embrace that will never let go. The loved one will never take his arms from where they are now, will never give back the bracelet of memories, will never journey from from his lover, will never place himself in danger in self-sacrifice, will never fail to show his love, will never become jealous, will never fall in love with someone else, will never lose the passion of this instant in time.

One must consider that these statues are illuminated by only the most feeble red light, for light is diminished almost to nothing at the center of time, its vibrations slowed to echoes in vast canyons, its intensity reduced to the faint glow of fireflies.

"14 May 1905" excerpt #2, from Einstein's Dreams by Alan Lightman.