feast or famine or light meal
dear Peter,
good to hear from you. I wanted to point out that your analogy of foods and analysis is actually more appropriate than you might think. between what you're saying, what Mike's said, Sonal's said to me at other times and what I am experiencing, and see everyone around me experiencing, we are truly "gorging" ourselves on the experiences of being alive and being American. it's gluttonous - instead of cutting out some potatoes to add the chicken, we pile the chicken on top. we stuff the salad in along the edges and throw the apple pie on top of it all. and it works for awhile because we have the cutlery to get through it, but before we've started digesting, we're already running back to fill another plate.
our lives move quickly. evolution of body/brain hasn't occurred at the same rate as that of technology, and now we're bound by schedules, and constant stimuli. even our "leisure" activities in this country are physically or mentally active. and particularly for those of us Westerners afflicted with that peculiar malaise of lives of luxury and privilege - depression, anxiety etc - it seems we never turn off our brains. Asimov and his contemporaries saw a lot in our future - but I don't think they imagined this. maybe these are evolutionary pangs. maybe this is how evolution happens, people lose their minds and then something changes to keep the species going.
we can't do everything; we can't think of everything; we can't notice, analyse, experience, feel, hear, touch or taste everything, and I think some of us want to. we're searching. we've got these gaping holes that we need to fill and we're rushing through the spectrum of experience to see what will fit in that space. it's time, for me at least, to just sit and feel the wind blowing through the holes. to measure their diameters, dig my own fingers into them and blindly feel around. and then just forget them and stare at a wall, or take a nap, or think of the waves coming in and the waves going out.
I never thought I'd say such a thing in the context of experiencing life to its full - but my mother's old "everything in moderation" seems a soothing balm these days for me.
hope you're chicken wings were yummy.
anne.
good to hear from you. I wanted to point out that your analogy of foods and analysis is actually more appropriate than you might think. between what you're saying, what Mike's said, Sonal's said to me at other times and what I am experiencing, and see everyone around me experiencing, we are truly "gorging" ourselves on the experiences of being alive and being American. it's gluttonous - instead of cutting out some potatoes to add the chicken, we pile the chicken on top. we stuff the salad in along the edges and throw the apple pie on top of it all. and it works for awhile because we have the cutlery to get through it, but before we've started digesting, we're already running back to fill another plate.
our lives move quickly. evolution of body/brain hasn't occurred at the same rate as that of technology, and now we're bound by schedules, and constant stimuli. even our "leisure" activities in this country are physically or mentally active. and particularly for those of us Westerners afflicted with that peculiar malaise of lives of luxury and privilege - depression, anxiety etc - it seems we never turn off our brains. Asimov and his contemporaries saw a lot in our future - but I don't think they imagined this. maybe these are evolutionary pangs. maybe this is how evolution happens, people lose their minds and then something changes to keep the species going.
we can't do everything; we can't think of everything; we can't notice, analyse, experience, feel, hear, touch or taste everything, and I think some of us want to. we're searching. we've got these gaping holes that we need to fill and we're rushing through the spectrum of experience to see what will fit in that space. it's time, for me at least, to just sit and feel the wind blowing through the holes. to measure their diameters, dig my own fingers into them and blindly feel around. and then just forget them and stare at a wall, or take a nap, or think of the waves coming in and the waves going out.
I never thought I'd say such a thing in the context of experiencing life to its full - but my mother's old "everything in moderation" seems a soothing balm these days for me.
hope you're chicken wings were yummy.
anne.
posted by Anne of San Fran at 10:48 AM
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