Do you ever get the feeling that some strange omniscient being or cosmic entity is trying to tell you something? Perhaps, once in a while, the threads of time get tangled up and you wonder if there aren't any coincidences, only the natural flow of things. What's especially strange is when these two phenomena collide. Stranger yet, what happens if that entity happens to be a former self? Recently, I had the chance to find out. Let me explain...
I found an old journal from a couple years back today. In it were observations from student teaching experiences, a few poems, a short essay, and some philosophical and background notes for a novel I am still working on to this day. The novel, as well as my outlook on life, has changed, but maybe now's as good a time as any to dig up this old ghost, this optimistic philosopher I once was, and stare him in the face: we'll definitely have a good argument or two. In any case, some of my ideology has changed so much (for the worse, I believe), that some of these ideas were a real kick in the pants. I had a hard time reading some of the notes because, in some ways, I have so quickly become a person I never wanted to become. I also had to look up some of the vocabulary (pollyanna) my former self seemed to pull off with no sweat. Smarty-pants show-off. I'll also say he was, on occasion, trying a bit to hard to show off his newly-attained "flowery" language skills. I'll do as little editing as possible to be true to my former self.
Below are some excerpts from notes as well as the essay/short story:
We'll start with the essay.
Note: This is a long post, I know. However, I promise that if you read the notes at the end first, it will be worth it.
Skipping Stones
Stone skipping has always been one of the fond memories in my life. Whether it be the ocean, the river, or my grandmother's lake, casting that first rock into the water was always a release for me. Finding that somewhat oblong, smooth stone in the sand, running through the cool water, and then finally sending it out into the world is something that has always been a calming and soothing activity. If catharsis is interpreted as the act of spiritual renewal and the release of tension, skipping stones was this for me.
On the shores of the Pacific Ocean, just outside the Redwood National Forest, there were many stones that would slice through the bountiful crashing waves that slipped inland via a small stream running from the forest of redwoods to the east. In a sense, the comic [yet tragic] nature of this tributary was a symbol of how life hits you: the small stream, fast and narrow, opens suddenly into an ocean of possibility. Somewhere in between, a chaos of salt and fresh water intermingle in confusion, and suddenly an unknown burst of purpose drives that water out into the ocean.
"No strings attached," some would say, becomes the longed-for outcome of the harrowing trip down that rocky stream. Living life side-by-side with freedom and forgoing a life of responsibility seems like the ultimate nirvana to some of us, but, as I stood looking out into that ocean, I knew that finding that possibility meant more than living my life as care-free as I had previously wanted. The tiny stream had now changed in my mind; it became one who dared to confront that ocean head-on. An entity so bold, it chose to face the largest, most impossible of challenges directly against all odds.
When the stream had the choice to continue on through the redwoods, it chose to merge with its supposed destiny: possibility. At that moment, I realized that the ocean was no longer the outcome of the journey, but the beginning of a new journey all together. I reached down for my first stone and cast it out towards the horizon. The stone skipped once or twice between the ocean waves, then collided with one goliath the ocean had sent inland. Needless to say, the ocean did not seem friendly on that day, so the stone found its way to the belly of the ocean floor.
I was always fascinated by how rocks moved within a body of water. The rock that I had cast into the ocean that day would soon become a pebble, then a grain of sand on the beach. I wouldn't see the grain of sand (perhaps no man would), but the rock would return from the sea eventually.
What does this mean in regards to the metaphor, then? Is it possible that possibility is really a means for refinement? That this ocean, this Nirvana, spits you back into the world so that you are better, more efficient, more refined, yet only one of many grains of sand? At that point, it all seemed paradoxical to me.
Many years after this experience, I would learn some of the answers to these questions. However, at that moment I returned to picking up the next rock and sending it out into a new world of possibility. This time, though not a perfect skip, the stone rode the waves out into the ocean: one, two, three. The horizon and the stone met for one instant, and then the stone disappeared into the dark blue water.
The single, seemingly monotonous act of skipping stones would continue on as a highlight for me throughout my young life. There were many times when going to the shores of the Chippewa River became a time of thought, of self-reflection. There were other times when throwing rocks was just that: philosophy dissolved, and there we were, just me and the rock.
NOTES FOR NOVEL:
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People are inherently good. The dilemma, for some, is that there is a gray area. I think this is more black and white in a way. First, this is my belief. The goal is not to change people's beliefs. It is to show them that I have experienced people being inherently good. "If you wait long enough, people will surprise and impress you." - Randy Pausch
I believe people are good and that is a choice I make. I would rather be disappointed, giving people the benefit of the doubt, [rather] than expecting the worst.
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A case for change. Reform in regards to: If more people take the time to explore, as well as [go] back to nature, things become refreshed and rejuvenated.
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Broken dreams made new- Dreams are good to keep alive. Though most people think this means following through with an unmoving dream, like a boulder, my idea is that a dream is something that is flexible. Realistic dreams are as bad as low expectations. Having unrealistic dreams, seemingly unattainable, drive us towards doing the impossible, attaining the unimaginable. However, dreams change in the flux that is life; dreams move from one thing to another. But, dreams have a root or focus. This is where people have trouble achieving their dreams because they don't realize the true longing that comes in that dream: security, love, belonging, hope, fun, freedom, etc.
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"Blessed is he who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed" (Alexander Pope) is a saying for the weak. Those who do not have expectations will not and do not ever fully experience life. Having high expectations in life leads to many disappointments, but it also allows you to find passion, explore, love, and go beyond what you have before. Having high expectations brings you experience. Just as the sun rises, [having high expectations] brings hope for the new day ahead, and the sunset can console and repair a broken heart. People who do not have high expectations will never experience the full gamut of human emotion. Instead, they experience a numbness with the world around them. They do no see sunrises and sunsets with the child-like wonder of three-year-olds, but with the weary eyes of a man or woman who no longer sees the world as a mechanism of constant, changing desire or an optimistic smile across a stranger's face. Rather, they see a fool's paradise, a Pollyanna's pipe dream. Is this not the greatest disappointment of all? To share the heart of the stone you rest upon, to grow so numb that you can't feel the grass beneath your feet?
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Unrequited love- Not in the sense of a romantic quest, but as a means towards finding something in life that is meaningful. The impetus for inspiring dreams. This ties back to expectations. Expectations are good if we use failures to motivate us. We can't obsess over things that we cannot change- experiences in the past, other people's perceptions of us, our actions in the past. We can, however, change and improve ourselves based on past experiences as well as our failed and achieved expectations.
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The thing I want to get across is that expectation is good. No matter the outcome, whether it be disappointment or the achievement of these expectations, we are better off being hopeful and optimistic in our lives.
"When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the universe." - John Muir