Julia Schwartz
October
7, 2003
Long
ago, in a far away place, we wrote this very same thing in English, but the
difference between then and now is a difference that is immeasurable, for the
difference in me between now and then is so vast that it can never be evaluated,
yet at the same time, so infinitesimal that there’s no need to even ask why.
Somehow, those of us who are lucky are granted a sort of special gift in life
where we are able to shed all the bounds that tie us, and forget about them in
urgent enjoyment of the present moment alone and anticipation of the joys of the
future.
It
isn’t so much that I’ve never suffered. Sure, I’ve never gone dumpster
diving for my dinner, worn the same t-shirt and shorts for years, had to kill my
child to have something to eat… I’ve never slaughtered innocent people, nor
seen my family and friends slaughtered, nor walked streets with gangs cowering
behind the walls. I’ve never had to wonder where my next meal is coming from,
nor how I’d pay for this or that, nor how to get through the night.
Yet
I am a believer in the fact that lives are relative. Not everyone has a life of
torture; not everyone has a life of pain. Though they might be trivial in the
general scheme of things, I’ve had my own social and personal woes and too
many walls of my own construction, as well as the standard barrage of traumas
anyone must go through as she lives her life.
I’ve
had mental breakdowns to degrees of compulsion, I’ve worried myself sick,
I’ve had my own medical issues and I’ve had to wonder if I’ll live another
year. I’ve had to deal with death of grandparents, close friends and family,
my “uncle.” I had to wonder if cancer and sickness would take my mother,
then my father, I’ve had to deal with my grandmother going blind. I’ve had
to support friends when they saw no hope for the future – I’ve had to get
myself through rocky times, and I’ve had to go so far to believe in myself
sometimes. You only realize how terrible the worlds we create for ourselves can
become when function seems to cease as a result of despair, when there really is
nothing to do but crawl into bed and hide the day away (“The world doesn’t
disappear when you close your eyes, you know…” –Memento).
Yes,
I do carry oh so much sometimes, but what’s infinitely better is when life
truly sets in and the beauty of the moment overrides anything else – when I
know what it means to float, for I am weightless but for the weight of my soul,
soaring above the clouds, the trees – soaring above humanity and all the
destruction and sorrow it wreaks. No, because though the caverns of my body are
crammed with the tremors of my soul, the reaches of my spirit are free, and
there isn’t anything that’s going to get in the way of my life – of my
living. I’m unstoppable, for beauty is unrestrained. The joy and the spirit
are as one; happiness and contentment reach their curving arms off to the far
reaches of infinity, and this is what life is all about. This is the dance, this
is not knowing why, but not really having to care, this is being able to move
beyond what holds us all back into the land of what gives the wings to fly into
the future – we’re going there, anyway… so why not fly? Why not soar? Why
not go as far as our human wings will take us?
I
don’t really care about the sorrows of the past anymore, for I’ve been able
to come to a place where I can believe in the beauty of the world and the beauty
of myself, when I can revel in beautiful moments and hold onto them for all
they’re worth, because I know they’re not going to last for much more than
the time I’ve realized them. I can’t always live by it, but I know deep
inside that life is this tremendous gift, and I know that my life is beautiful.
I know all the things I carry don’t really matter but for as they have shaped
me to be as I am now, and I don’t feel the need to revel in sorrow and recall
all of them – there is a time for tears, and yes, I’ve cried my eyes out my
fair share. Yet I think I’ve been able to find the beauty more than so many
other people – I know we’re never going to find the answer, and I don’t need
the answer. I know what I need to know, and that is that the only answer is to
question. I know the things in my life that have shaped me to be who I am –
and the people who have guided me to this point. I know as much of myself as I
think I’m allowed to know now, because one of the best things about life is
that we don’t understand it –
understanding ruins the game, it ruins the chase – if we knew the why, we
couldn’t enjoy the how. There are so many things to reach out and pick up in
my hands, to seize with the passion and beauty of life…
So, I suppose that in truth I didn’t answer this question too well. I can’t say what I carry, for if I were to retrace my steps into despair, I’d be troubling myself and I’ve come to a point where the happiness is blasting the unhappiness into tiny little fragments of the past. My past is still one of the best things I have – it’s something I would never trade for anything – except maybe the future – and the present. For as we are, trapped in a world where time marches along forward, there is no return to the past. We’ve just got to take what we’ve got with us, and keep going. What do I carry? Inspiration. Paradise in the age of reason…