"From this hour I ordain myself loos'd of limits and imaginary lines, going where I list, my own master total and absolute, Listening to others, considering well what they say, Pausing, searching, receiving, contemplating, Gently, but with undeniable will, divesting myself of the holds that would hold me."
Walt Whitman (1819-92)
"When I look back now over my life and call to mind what I might have had simply for taking and did not take, my heart is like to break."
Akhenaton (d. c.1354 BC)
And now, the current weather, from some random person we pulled off the street:
Friday, March 26, 2004
Living in a Fun House Mirror
warp Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English, from Old English wearp; akin to Old High German warf warp, Old English weorpan to throw, Old Norse verpa
1 a : a series of yarns extended lengthwise in a loom and crossed by the weft b : FOUNDATION, BASE
2 : a rope for warping or mooring a ship or boat
3 a : a twist or curve that has developed in something orig. flat or straight b : a mental twist or aberration
4 : Life, here at work
Astonishing, really, that I got a clear view of the world yesterday at an attorney's office of all places. Right there where the bending of reality to fit is a daily occupation, real life stepped in and took a seat.
Sequestered in my closet of an office, working with the dysfunctional group that I work with, I forget that there is another world, a real world, out there.
And I need to be reminded of that.
I went by to drop off some information with our corporate counsel. Our office used to be in the same building, and I know most of the folks there quite well. When I walked in, I felt a respect that I have not felt in a long, long time.
And you know, it felt right. And not some sort of vainish "right," but a real, deserve it right.
I was comfortable.
I was among friends. People that honestly cared, people who were not afraid or unwilling to see me as I am, people who did not feel they had to somehow tear me apart to make themselves look good. People who were proficient at what they did, knew I held them in high regard for that, and returned the favor.
That's the way the world is supposed to work, isn't it? I never thought I would experience anything different, and I miss it like I would miss air if I stopped breathing.
I figure we have until next Wednesday or so here. It's that bleak. Its all fingernails and duct tape here. The stress level is wearing everyone thin.
Out there, somewhere, is the world I remember. I just have to make it that far.
It seems so far away.
Life has become warped, bent, like a reflection in a fun house mirror at the fairs I remember as a child. What's fat, isn't. What's skinny, isn't. What's tall is short and short is tall.
Everything is sideways and its hard for me to cope with it. I have to stay focused on the fact that this is not reality, this is only a situation. I cannot weigh myself by these scales.
My scales are better, and true.
Adulthood isn't an award they'll give you for being a good child. You can waste... years, trying to get someone to give that respect to you, as though it were a sort of promotion or raise in pay. If only you do enough, if only you are good enough. No. You have to just... take it. Give it to yourself, I suppose. Say, I'm sorry you feel like that and walk away. But that's hard.
Lois McMaster Bujold, A Civil Campain, 1999
