gatineau morning.

gatineau morning.
photo by douglas mcarthur.

Saturday, December 27, 2014

the power.

the power that moves the hand to write.

i'm almost finished a memoire, the real story of my life, the whole package, all the incidents and adventures never told. what bothers me is that it's really not very long. how can that be, i ask myself (?) the real book, the complete story, the whole truth of my entire life, and it's hardly more than a friggin pamphlet! that is deeply troubling to me. i've always felt that my life is very important. i've always felt it is epic. frankly, i've always felt as though i was the centre of the universe. and yet, there it is: a pamphlet.

of course i'm exaggerating. but, were you ever so good at a sport that you were the go-to guy? were you ever that guy, (speaking as a guy,) who everyone passed the ball to until gradually, by virtue of injury and age, you ended up doing all the passing? have you ever had a girlfriend who hung on your every word and laughed at all your bad jokes? have you been that guy, (speaking as a guy,) so attractive until gradually you became someone she backed away from slowly in hopes that you would think it a naturally evolving nothingness?

i knew a guy once who was convinced that he was the reincarnation of jesus. he felt his life was that important. he did look a little like jesus, although i doubt that the son of god had a tattoo of a python on his neck, but maybe. i knew a guy once who was sure he could fly, but eventually discovered he was spectacularly mistaken. it can hurt when you find out how deluded you have been.

interestingly, many ancient sages have said that, if you sit alone long enough, you realize you are in fact the centre of the universe. you realize you are that important. only at that time, they said, you realize everyone else happens to be the centre of the universe as well. my life is epic, although apparently it has little to do with the incidents described on a page and everything to do with the power that moves the hand to write.

"what lies behind you and what lies in front of you pales in comparison to what lies inside you." ralph waldo emerson. (1802-1883)

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