introspection

we have an innate, human desire to understand our lives in concrete terms and to string them together logically, if so inclined; life takes on the form of a narrative in your medium of choice. perhaps this is why art, in all its forms, holds such an allure.

for myself, different situations call for different art forms. brief moments are captured quite neatly in single-pane comic strips (e.g. Farside, by Gary Larson). intensely emotional situations usually require a song, or piece, of music to act as an outlet. oftentimes i will replay a scene from the day in my head, but tinker with the dialogue, change the angle of the lighting, play the leitmotif with the french horn instead of the sax (less schmultzy) etc. it does an excellent job of keeping me awake when i'm trying to sleep.

it recently occured to me (last night) that each new chapter in life is governed by a theme that i only see in restrospect. each school term, i've found an overarching idea that seemed to tie together every course and conversation i was participating in at the time, no matter how diverse in topic they were. this is not limited to school. i have no examples because i have conveniently forgotten them. realizing these things upon introspection is as rewarding as rewatching an episode of the Office and catching a joke i had missed.

this time around, i've gotten a slight jump on this game of mental aerobics and i think i've caught the formation of the theme in the act. i had rushed into summer, looking to get what i wanted, through deliberation and initiative. there was a silly idea in my head that that's what manly men did. i know myself pretty well and i can definitely say i am a much better at reacting than i am initiating, so this can be seen as an overcompensation (ha). if this were a play, it would be the scene (Act IV, scene iii) where the protagonist gets complacent because the Wheel of Fortune has lifted him to the top. i had two classes in Shakespeare just before the summer. cue Act V, pathetic fallacy and inevitable fall. how tragic. how cathartic. this is usually the end of the play. a comedy of well-intentioned errors, adding a few more bricks on the road to hellooooo, nurse! anyone remember Animaniacs?

introspection occurs most often in the pits, where you can take a break from the monotony of the race and have other people change your tires, but mostly because there is nothing else to see. so there i receded into the back of my mind (where all the good stuff happens, so i'm told by neuropsychology students) to watch the proceedings from the cocoon of my own skull. i prayed to be able to hear God's voice. when we did that Taize worship thing a few months back, this is what i heard: "Moses! Moses!" (Exodus 3:4). i realized* that God calls you by name more than once - perhaps utilizing the physics of the echo effect. skulls have good reverberation.

this led to what i now see to be the theme of this chapter. instead of trying to be all manly by rushing headfirst into ambitious projects or solid objects, i need to learn to wait and listen**. coincidentally (or is it?), this has everything to do with what i'm studying at school, but only if i'm looking for it.

* i realized more than that, but it is off-topic
** from Avatar: The Last Airbender, Book 2: Earth, Chapter 3, 4 & 6, describing Aang's blind Earthbending master, Toph Bei Fong.