it is
impossible to convey the life-sensation of any given epoch of one's
existence--that which makes its truth, its meaning--its subtle and penetrating
essence. It is impossible. We live, as we dream--alone."
- Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness
- Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness
I have been battered by many circumstances, and mourned many dreams. Some days I barely recognize my own reflection. My eyes are older; my mouth more drawn, a subtle but definitive change has taken place. I am wiser – but at what cost?
Adversity has so often butchered my stalk - cut me down at the knees.
I took it all in though and I recycled it. I turned the bad into good; Rumpelstiltskin’s name upon my lips, and I spun. I spun until my hands bled and my face was stained with tears. I spun until the gold equaled the pain.
I was not taught any lessons from my hurt. Fate was not my teacher. I struggled. I clawed and fought and pulled myself up until I could find a reason for it all.
There has been no epiphany – no lightning strike. I have never dropped to my knees and thanked the heavens for my agony.
Instead I scrape and chisel at the exigency – the event, and like an expert sculptor I create my own art and I derive some sort of “epoch for [my] existence”.
In the moments where times are good I take it as my respite. Life cannot be lived without the devastation of time; without the bad balancing the good. But my own art – my own “impossible to convey life-sensation” is this…
When the sculptures complete; when my stone statue stands beside so many others and I begin to feel overwhelmed, I reflect on what I've made and I apply some sort of meaning. I force a truth out into the open - my truth.
Yes, my lessons are my own. I cannot preach or tell the world any categorical truth. Truth is different for everyone.
And though it might be right that it is impossible to convey every part that makes up my whole, I believe it is imperative to try.
I write so that I can reach others who might perhaps feel the same way I do. And I read so that I can find a lesson I may have missed.
Conrad is correct, my dreams are my own and I hope you’ll listen while I share them with you…
Welcome to my penetrating essence – welcome to Our Journey.
12 comments:
Your words are beautiful!
I love the rhythm of the way you write Carrie. Just lovely.
thanks guys!! :)
This is an extremely impressive piece of writing. Such beautiful, agonizing, painfully hopeful feelings conveyed here.
This kind of reminds me of a story that was told to me by a philosophy teacher. He told me a story about how a man went to the Louvre and was questioning one of the curators and said something like “I don’t see what is so special about the artwork here. What makes all of this so beautiful?” And the curator says that the beauty of the art there is not subjective; if one cannot find beauty in it then there is simply something wrong with that particular person ability to appreciate art.
When you are through building your sculpture and it stands there among the rest, I can assure you that no matter how it looks compared to the others, the detail that has gone into each piece will prove your statue’s objective beauty.
Thank you Trez. I tried to find the right metaphor to describe what its like to chisel meaning out a horrible event. Trying to find something good in it.
You are right. When I'm done, when I've learned as much as I can then it doesn't matter what others think - what they feel I should have derived. It is mine and mine alone.
Under "reactions" there should simply be a choice of "moving".
@Kait- Wow, thanks so much! Maybe I will implement that on my next Blogging post!! :)
When we can finally learn and peacefully accept "our truth" -- what a wonderful place to be. Your writing put me there with you along the journey.
@SouthMainMuse-Thanks so much. I believe that is the goal, to be at peace with the truth we have discovered - about ourself and the world.
Gorgeous! So glad to have found you. Thank you for stopping by!
There has been no epiphany – no lightning strike. I have never dropped to my knees and thanked the heavens for my agony.
I don't know that I have ever thanked the heavens for the crap I have dealt with, but I have been pleased to say that I learned something from it.
If you have to go through then hopefully you can find something positive to take from harder moments.
Yes Jack exactly. I was saying that I wasn't taught but instead I etched meaning from it. I analyzed and discovered the lesson in the event.
I was saying that I refuse to depend on God to teach me my lessons. I guess I was trying to say, we should all give ourselves more credit for what we take away from a devastation.
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