On the Insufficient Nature of the English Language
So here I am, attempting to construct my first Tumblr feed in a fashion that will keep me engaged. As my cursor blinks in the search box, there’s an uncomfortable epiphany: I don’t know what I like.
Well, sort of. I mean I like the Myst games, I like Star Trek: The Next Generation, I like Sherlock Holmes and product design and Gödel Escher Bach. Simple, right? I should have followed fifty blogs by now & rejoiced.
But I don’t really love these things, per se. These are symptoms. These are unremarkable manifestations of Platonic ideals, shadows on the cave wall.
I don’t love Myst, I love the snarl of ideas it tugs on - worlds of quiet solitude & exploration, careful & precisely-chosen language, realities built atop well-reasoned principles of logic, balance and harmony…
There aren’t hashtags for those. There aren’t even *words* for those. Trying to imagine what to search for to find people who post…that…whatever that is…
If you find this post: please, I am trapped at the bottom of a well of language. I can gesture wildly toward the words I wish existed: “logic-applied-to-the-fanciful,” “the-perfect-mating-of-a-thing-to-a-situation-at-exactly-the-right-moment,” “beauty-arising-from-being-the-perfect-functional-shape.”
But I can’t tag them, and I can’t search for them. If you find them in your travels, please send them this way.
The alarm went off at 4:50 am. It always does. but I was so damn tired. For a tiny moment, in an alternate universe, my brain wished for the snooze button. me! the snooze button? my god, I must be exhausted. I never hit the snooze button. It’s wrong. a seductive little dare. but wrong. When that alarm goes off, you get up. Youhaveto get up. Unravel your limbs, toss the weight of the soft fluffy covers, dig out of the sinkhole that is your bed and let the pads of your feet land hard on the cold floor. Get. Up.
It’s obnoxious, yes, but nonetheless the alarm is a battle cry. It purposely thrusts a choice upon you when you’re not conscious enough to evaluate. It screams, use your instincts RIGHT NOW. and what will they be? face your dreams, tackle your challenges, right your lists…or cave? shut your lids and retreat into this dark safe silence. squishy up your downy pillow and rub your soft little head in there. GET!!! UP!!!!!!
When you’re staring down the last 400 meters to the finish line, with every aching ligament screaming at you to ‘just, in the name of all that’s good and holy, give it a rest, coast, relax a little…you already made it,’ do you charge at the waving red cape or do you say, meh, give me a few minutes to think about it…. that’s your snooze button right there.
So if your get up and go got up and went this morning, get up and find it.
Chase your day, chase your dreams, chase your partner down the block. Go for a run. bike. Go lift. swim. hell why choose? Go for it all.
Your day is a gift. don’t just accept it, embrace it, squeeeeeeze the stuffing out of it.