Understanding
There is inherent beauty in the silence of being. Of being me. And when we try to capture the essence of something, there is a loss in the translation. So how does one achieve understanding of what we are: fully, unequivocally, and with meaning? I’ve been seeking understanding of any number of things: illness, family, love and loss, and most importantly myself. What is understanding?
According to the OED is it:
a. (Without article.) Power or ability to understand; intellect, intelligence. d. Mind, purpose, intent. Obs. rare. 2. The intellectual faculty as manifested in a particular person or set of persons. . a. Signification, meaning, sense. Obs. b. Comprehension of something. rare. 6. slang or colloq. a. pl. Foot-wear; boots or shoes.
I’d prefer to think that I’d merely look to my shoes to find the understanding I was looking for. But sadly, I think they’d fail me.
But maybe foot-wear isn’t a terrible place to start. After all, they have a story of where one has traveled. Depending on which pair you talk to, they’d say I was a tanned beach goddess, an incorrigible flirt, notorious dancing queen, beautiful dreamer, polished academic, and a restless journey. I supposed they’d have more to say, but you’d have to ask. The bronze stilettos are particularly loquacious. But does this give us understanding?
I’m reminded of Harry Potter when I’m soaking my unknown self in a bubbly tub. If understanding were just as easy as putting the golden egg under water, I’d have soaked it all away. Instead I’ve been working with energy points and repeated mantras as a way to understanding. I am, somewhat understanding. But there is much more to do.
There are things that remind me I am on that quest. Musings written by a boy with wanderlust remind me that my songs are both limited and infinite, losing unsavory men remind me that there is a greater dance to be performed, letting go to the beat of another reminds me of movement, learning of my capacity as a muse reminds me that there is inherent beauty in the world and in me, certain dramas rouse feelings which remind me that I’m alive. And I like feeling alive. It feels good to feel alive. Perhaps that is the key to understanding. Whatever it may be.
According to the OED is it:
a. (Without article.) Power or ability to understand; intellect, intelligence. d. Mind, purpose, intent. Obs. rare. 2. The intellectual faculty as manifested in a particular person or set of persons. . a. Signification, meaning, sense. Obs. b. Comprehension of something. rare. 6. slang or colloq. a. pl. Foot-wear; boots or shoes.
I’d prefer to think that I’d merely look to my shoes to find the understanding I was looking for. But sadly, I think they’d fail me.
But maybe foot-wear isn’t a terrible place to start. After all, they have a story of where one has traveled. Depending on which pair you talk to, they’d say I was a tanned beach goddess, an incorrigible flirt, notorious dancing queen, beautiful dreamer, polished academic, and a restless journey. I supposed they’d have more to say, but you’d have to ask. The bronze stilettos are particularly loquacious. But does this give us understanding?
I’m reminded of Harry Potter when I’m soaking my unknown self in a bubbly tub. If understanding were just as easy as putting the golden egg under water, I’d have soaked it all away. Instead I’ve been working with energy points and repeated mantras as a way to understanding. I am, somewhat understanding. But there is much more to do.
There are things that remind me I am on that quest. Musings written by a boy with wanderlust remind me that my songs are both limited and infinite, losing unsavory men remind me that there is a greater dance to be performed, letting go to the beat of another reminds me of movement, learning of my capacity as a muse reminds me that there is inherent beauty in the world and in me, certain dramas rouse feelings which remind me that I’m alive. And I like feeling alive. It feels good to feel alive. Perhaps that is the key to understanding. Whatever it may be.
posted by Cat at 11:03 PM
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