I regret to say I cannot do a cartwheel; I've always felt bad about that. Nor can i stand on my head or touch the tip of my nose with my tongue or ride a unicycle. i have other useful and exhilarating skills; offhand i can't imagine one.
I don't play the bagpipes but just the sound of them is liable to make me weep, especially at a funeral or wake or wedding. i come unglued.
i know how to write, how to cook arroz con pollo and coq au vin, how to read really fast, how to bait a hook with a live worm without squirming, how to snorkel or hike or swim or stare into space for hours - mentally plotting out my latest novel or article - and forget Time and the outside world. i know how to raise a son, how to be friends with an ex, how to listen and how to survive in the business world without stabbing anyone in the back or swan diving off a high building. i know how to laugh really well, in fact i have a highly infectious laugh but not a cackle laugh or a nasal laugh. i know how to live, and not just survive. i consider living an art.
so i know about the existence of art as well, and its extreme importance. i believe love is an art as well. it may be that i see the god and the art in everything. therefore, i know how to be happy.
I think it's possible to be happy, it's impossible to be right. i choose happy: roller coaster jibe, warm rain Baptisms, irascible Eros, the sudden deluge, white lightning, the deadly fleet step of time at my back, screams and all. choosing now.
unhappy people are problematic: you can't take people's suffering away. that's the last thing i know, for now.
8 comments:
everything you know gets you through life.. that's what's important =]
love your blog!
unhappy people ARE problematic. i find they often subconsciously aim to make others unhappy, which is obviously no good.
we're all unhappy in one sense or another, at one time or another. but people will not allow you to take away their suffering, is what i find. and i myself find myself reluctant to let go of my own. someone famous once said that self pity is simply grief in the pejorative!
I can hear your infectious laugh from here, and I've never even heard it.
Great, great, really great post.
More, please.
carrie, you are a love. it's two hundred degrees and my macbook is in the repair shop. i'm operating on my old laptop, which has all the speed and efficiency of underwear without elastic.
Well, the image of "efficient" underwear will keep me going until the next post. So, thanks.
Your old laptop must be happy, you have removed its suffering and put it to use.
yes! the Cracktop Lives! it has gone back into my son Pablo's possession.
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