I bid farewell to the Luddite Movement that I once believed so strongly in and fully commit myself to being a part of the “Twitter Generation” Thanks for having me, guys.
Aw, here it goes… (Kenan & Kel, anyone?)
One. “Getting My Sea Legs (or should I say Blog Legs? No. sounds creepy):
A Brief Introduction”
Juliet Capulet once said from a balcony in Verona: "What's in a name? That which we call a rose, By any other name would smell as sweet (Romeo & Juliet II, ii, 1-2)…
It’s a classic line, and I get it, what she’s saying. Despite his unfortunate last name, her Love would remain unchanged to her: He would have the same soul, same (assumedly) lovely eyes, the same excellent talent for verse in the English language (especially considering the fact that he was Italian), etc. However, I think, in her tunneled vision, Juliet here has minimized the power of the name, and I must address this fallacy today, since I know this troubles all of you as well : )
This is what my first entry is about: the title of my blog. It might seem lame, but this is totally necessary for me because, you see, I am a believer in names.
The Anglo-Saxons used to name everything. Their swords, their helmets, their armor, their cutlery (can you imagine a world in which you could be found drinking out of your noble coffee mug, “Arabica”?? I certainly can…), their children (an odd habit we continue to carry out to this day)…anything noble or of worth, anything that ensured their survival or enhanced the quality of their survival, was given a name.
What do I have to name?
My iPhone? Perhaps its name would be “the reason I now tweet in bed.” …That’s lacking something.
My Kindle? Considering mine met its Maker about 2 months ago, the only name it merits is “broken.”
My kitten? Oh wait. I am not allowed to have one…but her name would be Luna Lovegood, and I swear I would cherish her forever…but that’s another entry entirely…
So, when I decided to bite the proverbial bullet and make a blog, I think the thing that excited me the most was giving it a title that characterized me. My journey ended on the title of the poem, somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond, by ee cummings.
It’s an odd, beautiful little poem, probably my third favorite of all time (not sure what the first two are, they are yet to be known to me), and it’s me.
That pretty much sums me up in this moment. I had something to write about 2 hours ago, a laundry list of comical/serious aspects of my person, but so much has changed since then. Things seem to change—I seem to change—so quickly I can’t even keep up with myself. This truth is incredibly ironic in that I am in what seems an interminable period of “I don’t know” and wait. I am learning and changing constantly, but my circumstances seem to linger on, persistent and stubborn. They’re not bad, just persistent and stubborn. And they don’t find me exactly where I feel I was made to dwell.
This solidifies my choice of title even more.
The first 2 lines of this poem read,
“somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence”.
This is actually the only reality I know right now. That my whole existence lies somewhere I have never traveled. My world revolves around the One whose eyes have their silence in this mysterious place I long to be caught up in: First here. then There. But certainly always. (and I forget too often, even now). And I am glad.