"What have you learned?"
We were sitting in the living room, strangers to each other months, days, even hours ago. It was late, almost 1 a.m. and the children had gone to bed. Some of us lay spread-eagled on the floor, others in armchairs with their legs up, still others leaning on whatever was near and back-worthy. One in particular, whom I had persuaded to stay, half-sat half-lay on the couch, nodding in sleep and looking beatiful.
Someone asked a question.
"I don't really ever think of it as learning", replied one, whose last job forced him to work 12-hour days starting at 3 am. "But I guess I learned that with two kids, you can never really keep track of time. I hardly talk to my wife...and then there's the thoughts I don't talk about anyways. But one day I'm screaming at my 5-yr old daughter, and my 2-yr old son walks up and hugs me. I look at him thinking 'What are you doing? I'm screaming at your sister!' He smiles his shy smile. Man, that's unconditional love right there."
"I'm learning about powerlessness," said another, whose 1-yr old daughter had had surgery when she was a month-old and has learned sign-language and is the most active child I've ever seen. "I know I'm doing what I love to do as a teacher, and it's challenging when people who know nothing about it take charge of it; but I'm learning about the faith and strength to keep doing what I do."
"Sustainability," said a third, who had ridden a Greyhound for 7 hours to get here. "I've sold my car, drive my bicycle around, use public transport, and I'm loving it. I'm living with people with similar interests, and it's great to see that we're trying to make a difference by living out our ideal."
My turn. "I'm re-learning simple things", I said, "It's frightfully easy to go back to where you were even after learning and changing. The other day as I was waiting for my bus, the sun was shining and it was snowing at the same time. It was beautiful, but people all around were just bustling about their daily lives, not stopping to look, to taste the snow on their tongues...I re-learnt that it's a privilege to be able to see beauty, in whatever small way, every day."
"I've learned that I'm exactly where I want to be," said the person next to me, a single mother to a 13-yr old dog. "It was a big decision to quit and work from home, and it was really shaky for a while, but I figured it out and now it's fairly smooth. But," she turned to me. "I miss what you talked about."
It's easy for me to say, I thought, I'm a college student who doesn't have to work the whole day, and doesn't (for now) have a career to worry about. But is it that hard to miss? When a rainbow sears across the sky, how can you not see it? When the setting sun kindles the clouds ablaze, would you rather talk on your cell-phone? How far do you have to go to hear a bird chirping or a child laughing? What does it take to turn off the TV and find a moment of silence?
Or to sit with a group of friends, coming together from different parts of the country, even from around the world, and find the comfort to share the thoughts in your heart?
Or the freedom to fall asleep?
Someone asked a question.
"I don't really ever think of it as learning", replied one, whose last job forced him to work 12-hour days starting at 3 am. "But I guess I learned that with two kids, you can never really keep track of time. I hardly talk to my wife...and then there's the thoughts I don't talk about anyways. But one day I'm screaming at my 5-yr old daughter, and my 2-yr old son walks up and hugs me. I look at him thinking 'What are you doing? I'm screaming at your sister!' He smiles his shy smile. Man, that's unconditional love right there."
"I'm learning about powerlessness," said another, whose 1-yr old daughter had had surgery when she was a month-old and has learned sign-language and is the most active child I've ever seen. "I know I'm doing what I love to do as a teacher, and it's challenging when people who know nothing about it take charge of it; but I'm learning about the faith and strength to keep doing what I do."
"Sustainability," said a third, who had ridden a Greyhound for 7 hours to get here. "I've sold my car, drive my bicycle around, use public transport, and I'm loving it. I'm living with people with similar interests, and it's great to see that we're trying to make a difference by living out our ideal."
My turn. "I'm re-learning simple things", I said, "It's frightfully easy to go back to where you were even after learning and changing. The other day as I was waiting for my bus, the sun was shining and it was snowing at the same time. It was beautiful, but people all around were just bustling about their daily lives, not stopping to look, to taste the snow on their tongues...I re-learnt that it's a privilege to be able to see beauty, in whatever small way, every day."
"I've learned that I'm exactly where I want to be," said the person next to me, a single mother to a 13-yr old dog. "It was a big decision to quit and work from home, and it was really shaky for a while, but I figured it out and now it's fairly smooth. But," she turned to me. "I miss what you talked about."
It's easy for me to say, I thought, I'm a college student who doesn't have to work the whole day, and doesn't (for now) have a career to worry about. But is it that hard to miss? When a rainbow sears across the sky, how can you not see it? When the setting sun kindles the clouds ablaze, would you rather talk on your cell-phone? How far do you have to go to hear a bird chirping or a child laughing? What does it take to turn off the TV and find a moment of silence?
Or to sit with a group of friends, coming together from different parts of the country, even from around the world, and find the comfort to share the thoughts in your heart?
Or the freedom to fall asleep?
posted by Sketchy Self at 4:22 PM
Your thoughts: 0
Post a Comment
<< Home