An exquisite blend of biography and observation. The dictionary definition of ‘essay’ could contain a link to this piece. Would love to see an essay-length expansion of the second footnote.
Vividness is not exclusive to, presumably, real and unreal realities; the emotional spectrum, it seems, remains intact. (The realest experiences of my life feel surreal to me now. In some cases, I've felt most real as an individual is in an unreal environment (Thus, the misunderstood)). Your comment about turbulence in love, being just that---turbulence before the plane assuredly lands---caught me off guard. I've always been comforted by the temporary nature of life. Now, I'm beginning to appreciate the phrase in context. People often say, to comfort or dismiss, that everything is temporary; nothing lasts forever. However, it forgoes the monkey-in-the-middle between now and always: now and yet.
Here I am at 3:30, rolling over from bed, jet lagged after arriving back from a trip to the "The Far East." For the first time, sitting on the runway in the plane, having not even seen anything of the city or the bay, I really did not have that desire of, "Ohh I have returned. I feel at home. Woosah..." In fact, it was a more, "I don't belong here." A feeling I have never felt before. Crossing over the bay by car, exiting Oakland at night, it occurred again to me, ever more real than before, that we were living in the dystopian future of the 90s. There was a stench on crossing over and landing onto the street from the exit ramp. The massive hulking concrete structures. The drizzle of rain creating an emotive feeling of satisfied, content despondency. Both sides of the road overgrown with bushes, their dark silhouettes rising in the air to meet the rain.
How could people live like this? The dark, vaguely decipherable silhouettes and everything lurking in the background (a metaphor for every furtive 90s movie I ever saw) was, nay is, a facsimile of what occurs during the day. That everything that is real during the day is still hidden by some dark, spiritual forces even in the light. And yet the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can not comprehend it. There is so much more in this world than what the bay has to offer - to which I surmise you understand and why 500,000 other people have left the state in the last couple of years.
I hazard an opinion that most that have left, have left not knowing what the future holds or looks like, but that the reality they came from was not the reality they sought. There is an image we seek that leads to imagination and a reality that hits us where we are and unveils to us an image we never imagined.
For me I encounter the same thing. What is it like to be back in the bay? I know what that looks, but though I am dissatisfied with it, I carry on in facile contentment perhaps because the alternate, one, true reality scares me and is not a picture that is truly defined or visible yet.
Yet to move beyond the ideal image, a false negative in itself, we must take a step in faith. We must leave the dark room where we feel comfortable processing and engage the world in reality. We must reach out and push beyond these strips of film, snippets of an ideal that surround but which are not the real thing. We must move beyond the dark room where we have grown comfortably processing life in isolated, segmented, film pieces which separate us from the real world outside.
Real love cannot come without sacrifice; that is true. Greater love has no other than this - that someone lay down his life for his friends. And for me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.
For me, I recall the letter to the Hebrews in which the writer says, "For the joy set before him Christ endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured much hostility and opposition from sinners (like me) , so that you will not grow weary and lose heart. In your struggle you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood. “My son," it says "do not make light of the Lord’s discipline, and do not lose heart when he rebukes you, because the Lord disciplines the one he loves, and he chastens everyone he accepts as his son.” Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as his children. For what children are not disciplined by their father? If you are not disciplined—and everyone undergoes discipline—then you are not legitimate, not real sons and daughters at all. Moreover, we have all had human fathers who disciplined us and we respected them for it. How much more should we submit to the Father of spirits and live! Our human forefathers disciplined and taught us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, in order that we may share in his holiness. No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it."
For me, I am being called out to move from where I am. I don't know to what exactly. But I've ditched my job and (hope) I am moving closer to that real thing which Jesus has called me towards. I have an idea of where to which it requires me to shed the familiarities and comforts of my current reality. The decision to quit was not a romantical, whimsical choice based on feeling. And I'm fortunate enough that I don't have to earn a salary and don't have familial responsibilities beyond myself, so that I can explore beyond the logic with my real hands and feet this real world before me, not to languish further in imagined, hoped for unreality past. In this world a step of faith is required so that we may achieve a reward, a crown of glory not from this world that cannot perish. It is a thing not easily understood by this world's terms.
For me, I point these things out not to "convert you" but to show you where I draw strength and sensibility from in this chaotic, inchoate world. I hope it is helpful in offering you a guide and template to navigate through the world's romantic notions and mirages.
Your paragraph about the "risk at the center of love" being questioning your own intuition/renegotiating your relationship with yourself is a perfect paragraph. When I reflect on love it's always a battle between instinct and deliberation/ head and heart which you evoked so wonderfully in this essay.
This is brilliant and has left me with layers of thoughts and wonderings - none of which I can articulate quite yet. But all of which have me contemplating my own questionable choices in love. I’ll be back.
Michelle, I miss reading your essays every month or so! I hope all is ok with you. We’re all looking forward to whatever ideas are percolating with you at this time.
An exquisite blend of biography and observation. The dictionary definition of ‘essay’ could contain a link to this piece. Would love to see an essay-length expansion of the second footnote.
Vividness is not exclusive to, presumably, real and unreal realities; the emotional spectrum, it seems, remains intact. (The realest experiences of my life feel surreal to me now. In some cases, I've felt most real as an individual is in an unreal environment (Thus, the misunderstood)). Your comment about turbulence in love, being just that---turbulence before the plane assuredly lands---caught me off guard. I've always been comforted by the temporary nature of life. Now, I'm beginning to appreciate the phrase in context. People often say, to comfort or dismiss, that everything is temporary; nothing lasts forever. However, it forgoes the monkey-in-the-middle between now and always: now and yet.
Here I am at 3:30, rolling over from bed, jet lagged after arriving back from a trip to the "The Far East." For the first time, sitting on the runway in the plane, having not even seen anything of the city or the bay, I really did not have that desire of, "Ohh I have returned. I feel at home. Woosah..." In fact, it was a more, "I don't belong here." A feeling I have never felt before. Crossing over the bay by car, exiting Oakland at night, it occurred again to me, ever more real than before, that we were living in the dystopian future of the 90s. There was a stench on crossing over and landing onto the street from the exit ramp. The massive hulking concrete structures. The drizzle of rain creating an emotive feeling of satisfied, content despondency. Both sides of the road overgrown with bushes, their dark silhouettes rising in the air to meet the rain.
How could people live like this? The dark, vaguely decipherable silhouettes and everything lurking in the background (a metaphor for every furtive 90s movie I ever saw) was, nay is, a facsimile of what occurs during the day. That everything that is real during the day is still hidden by some dark, spiritual forces even in the light. And yet the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can not comprehend it. There is so much more in this world than what the bay has to offer - to which I surmise you understand and why 500,000 other people have left the state in the last couple of years.
I hazard an opinion that most that have left, have left not knowing what the future holds or looks like, but that the reality they came from was not the reality they sought. There is an image we seek that leads to imagination and a reality that hits us where we are and unveils to us an image we never imagined.
For me I encounter the same thing. What is it like to be back in the bay? I know what that looks, but though I am dissatisfied with it, I carry on in facile contentment perhaps because the alternate, one, true reality scares me and is not a picture that is truly defined or visible yet.
Yet to move beyond the ideal image, a false negative in itself, we must take a step in faith. We must leave the dark room where we feel comfortable processing and engage the world in reality. We must reach out and push beyond these strips of film, snippets of an ideal that surround but which are not the real thing. We must move beyond the dark room where we have grown comfortably processing life in isolated, segmented, film pieces which separate us from the real world outside.
Real love cannot come without sacrifice; that is true. Greater love has no other than this - that someone lay down his life for his friends. And for me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.
For me, I recall the letter to the Hebrews in which the writer says, "For the joy set before him Christ endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured much hostility and opposition from sinners (like me) , so that you will not grow weary and lose heart. In your struggle you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood. “My son," it says "do not make light of the Lord’s discipline, and do not lose heart when he rebukes you, because the Lord disciplines the one he loves, and he chastens everyone he accepts as his son.” Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as his children. For what children are not disciplined by their father? If you are not disciplined—and everyone undergoes discipline—then you are not legitimate, not real sons and daughters at all. Moreover, we have all had human fathers who disciplined us and we respected them for it. How much more should we submit to the Father of spirits and live! Our human forefathers disciplined and taught us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, in order that we may share in his holiness. No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it."
For me, I am being called out to move from where I am. I don't know to what exactly. But I've ditched my job and (hope) I am moving closer to that real thing which Jesus has called me towards. I have an idea of where to which it requires me to shed the familiarities and comforts of my current reality. The decision to quit was not a romantical, whimsical choice based on feeling. And I'm fortunate enough that I don't have to earn a salary and don't have familial responsibilities beyond myself, so that I can explore beyond the logic with my real hands and feet this real world before me, not to languish further in imagined, hoped for unreality past. In this world a step of faith is required so that we may achieve a reward, a crown of glory not from this world that cannot perish. It is a thing not easily understood by this world's terms.
For me, I point these things out not to "convert you" but to show you where I draw strength and sensibility from in this chaotic, inchoate world. I hope it is helpful in offering you a guide and template to navigate through the world's romantic notions and mirages.
I look forward to reading more of your journey :)
Your paragraph about the "risk at the center of love" being questioning your own intuition/renegotiating your relationship with yourself is a perfect paragraph. When I reflect on love it's always a battle between instinct and deliberation/ head and heart which you evoked so wonderfully in this essay.
This is brilliant and has left me with layers of thoughts and wonderings - none of which I can articulate quite yet. But all of which have me contemplating my own questionable choices in love. I’ll be back.
Michelle, I miss reading your essays every month or so! I hope all is ok with you. We’re all looking forward to whatever ideas are percolating with you at this time.