Bloggity loggity

Today, I discovered I had a blog. Namely this one. And when I say discovered, I actually mean discovered. It’s existence had drifted away from my day to day consciousness. I was going through my gmail and found the link to blogger. It was a moment of pleasant surprise. (A similar surprise you have when you’re clearing up your house and find the hidden treasures you had tucked away somewhere in a corner, cupboard or folder.) I suppose it’s called nostalgia.

It’s like I get to talk a bit with the me from more than a year ago. Or she gets to talk to the present me, because I can say very little back. I can’t reassure about choices or paths. Past-me wonders about the now-me. Just like the now-me wonders about the future-me and feels a certain tenderness towards Past-me.

Past-me was uncertain of where she would be a year later. She is scared of the inevitable changes en she is scared that with the choices she makes, she excludes so much other possibilities (see previous blogs vertigo, and the road not taken) . I remember the bouts of anxiety I had, where I’d wake up at night and the future would be the most terrifying things imaginable. I remember sweaty palms and hyperventilation. I can even awake the feeling when I think about it too much. However, now I am at the place I worried about so much. I find the road is a pleasant hilly road, with every now and then a bump. I keep a steady pace and don’t take too much time to look behind. I look forward to my future adventures. It’s no wonder Past-me got a little out of sight.

I’d like to tell Past-me she’s right in the sense that it isn’t always easy. Sometimes I have to work really hard, but that she is and I am, capable of that. And that even though the choices at that point seem definite, there are always degrees of freedom (and more scary choices up ahead which haven’t even crossed her mind yet).

Oh and future-me, when you read this, please try not to laugh. I’m sure I sound very childish by then. Have a good one!

The road not taken

(my last post about paths or futures in a while, promise ;))

Sometimes I am struck by a sense of nostalgia when looking back at choices made. I wonder about “what if”. These fantasies are not painful. I do not regret.

Well, that is a lie. I do regret. Saying that I don’t wish I had been more sensitive or less sensitive at occasions, that I had done certain things differently, that I had made different choices every now and then would be speaking falsehood. So, let me rephrase that and re-explain the previous statement.

Every now and then in life you have the feeling to stand at a crossroad. With several different defining choices. You have no idea where these choices will lead you. Personally, I feel that at this moment I’m nearing one of those crossroads, where you have to make choices. And like I usually do while progressing forward, I am looking back. In my life I have made choices which I cannot return to. I cannot re-choose my highschool and how that environment there has shaped me. I have already walked one road and with that experience it has changed the second road too. However, I do wonder, what if I’d gone to a different educational environment, met different people, found myself inspired by other persons. How different would I be? I remember that in the Harry Potter series once remarked that our abilities are not what defines us, but our choices. I see some truth in that. Yet the unknown of the road not taken raises questions. You can never test yourself. You can never know which would have been a better option. There is no chance of rehearsal. This idea is beautifully expressed by Milan Kundera.

I hope sometimes that my path does not define me, I just don’t really have a second chance to walk a different one. So in the end, I better enjoy the one I walk, and when looking back I can only look with nostalgia, but it is smarter not to regret. I get to make my choices, I get to choose a path and that’s a gift. The forest is dense, I can’t see what is ahead, but I’ll try and enjoy the scenery as much as I can, and not reminiscence too much over lost paths.

The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less travelled by,
And that has made all the difference

Vertigo

Anyone whose goal is 'something higher' must expect someday to suffer vertigo. What is vertigo? Fear of falling? No, Vertigo is something other than fear of falling. It is the voice of the emptiness below us which tempts and lures us, it is the desire to fall, against which, terrified, we defend ourselves. -Milan Kundera

Milan Kundera remarked once that vertigo was not necessarily the fear of falling, but the fear for the desire to fall. This is how I experience this new year. With a certain sense of vertigo. I have once remarked that one shouldn’t despair at change and the temporary nature of things, for these features are simply inevitable when living, and that one should use these as an excuse to breathe and take the full advantage of what Is going at this very moment. Though they also say that the hardest kind of living is from day to day. I have actively attempted to make myself smaller and to stretch myself over as little time as possible. I’d like not to wonder too much about past or future. (Though this New Years I allowed myself to wander in a sense of nostalgia for an hour or so, which did worry some of my companions.) No, I actively try to keep my feet on the earth and not let dreams take over too much. It seems to me an art to face things as open and accepting as possible; to let myself fall into it, so to speak.

This year however, the change is going to be big. Now it feels like I am heading towards a point where I am finishing my masters. I am done studying and my path is less set than it has been for years. I could continue trying to get a phd, I could start working, I could travel, do both, focus more on art, dance classes. I haven’t decided yet and I feel that I am not too keen on setting that future yet. I’ve also found I started unbinding myself, no university, no set job, no relationship, I do not live with my parents, I have at most a months notice for my room., no family. I am, in a sense, free. An opportunity is created, a hole filled with possibilities, and as much as I don’t like to look forward too much (for I am thoroughly enjoying my life at this moment) I can feel it getting closer. I can feel a sense of vertigo, a sense of fear. It feels like running towards something blindfolded. I know my path, I like running, but I don’t know where I am going, but I trust it to be all right. And there is an active desire for that blindfolded running, for the falling into the unknown. And that is maybe what frightens me most: the impulsivity, the need for thrill, change or lack of security. But I’ll let it come, I’ll close my eyes, and enjoy the now and be ready for what is coming, whatever is.

As I write these final words I’m listening to metamorphosis by Phillip Glass and fondly remember the words my teacher told me: “der Weg is das Ziel”. When he told me this at first I had no idea why he told me so, but slowly I find that truer words have rarely been spoken to me. Happy New Years.