You could drown in memories like these, but she tried to swim free of them...Past tense, future imperfect. (Zadie Smith, White Teeth, 379)
my thoughts are embedded with contradictions, exceptions, to nearly everything i can think of.
when i say that i try to be momentary, how i rate the success of this endeavor is usually dependent on how able i am to separate myself from the past tense, future imperfect. it is a cleavage that is painful, while also exhilarating. these moments are my reckless moments. these moments are culminations of my disregard, my disdain, for my compulsiveness, my strivings for perfection in everything.
as far as i can remember, i have always been a big proponent of living in the moment. it is, perhaps, a reflection of my struggles, or lack thereof, to reconcile my life with my history, my desires with my strivings. my lack of enthusiasm for commitment to people and places beyond a particular moment have been a result of my lack of enthusiasm for committing to understanding who i am beyond a particular moment.
i am trying to reconstruct the possibilities of what living in the moment can mean, trying to connect the past with the future through this moment. this is turning out to be a bit more difficult, and perhaps more painful, than not.
yesterday, i read an article in the atlantic arguing that humans are predisposed to believe in the supernatural. while i found the argument as a whole to be highly questionable, even given my suspicion of religion, what intrigued me was the observation that we tend to view our bodies as separate from our souls, or our minds.
my dichotomous thinking on this runs into my dichotomous thinking in momentary living. in most things, i'm all or nothing - very rarely do i find myself comfortable in the middle of any spectrum. i may love intensely, with fierce loyalty, but not without demands, requirements.
so i want to be more momentary, but i'm not even sure what that means anymore. you want to know what i fear, why i'm changing definitions in the middle of all of this. i can't say for certain.
Friday, November 18, 2005
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