This year has been a whirlwind, to say the least. While unfinished work remains, I wonder if “done” or “back to normal” are ever truly attainable. But that’s okay; life is, after all, a never-ending journey of change. As these thoughts surfaced, my GPS led me to a ramp that felt entirely unfamiliar.
Explaining evanescence is simple, yet it clashes profoundly with my innate desire for control and certainty.
The overpass arched gracefully upwards, seemingly toward the pale, overcast sky. As the vista unfolded, the clouds parted, bathing the concrete sprawl below in a transient glow of dewy, sparkling, post-rain sunlight. I cherish these fleeting suspensions of reality. For just a few seconds, it feels almost as if I was about to fly off, into a different dimension, a realm of magic.
But of course, the car merely descended onto 280, joining the endless river of metal boxes, ferrying little humans and their little dreams.
I swung between deep appreciation and intense aversion. The more I attuned to it, the more I marveled at its intricacies. It’s truly a single, coherent entity, shifting, adapting, and displaying seemingly contradictory hues. It’s a wisdom so commonplace that every ancient philosophy preaches: two sides of the same coin; double-edged sword; the unity of opposites; Yin and Yang. I stopped fighting it, and started to learn how to befriend this powerful force. It reveals so much to me, about the authenticity of individuality, of humanity’s common struggle, of the interplay of the primal and the intellectual that continues its dance until death.
It’s the ingenuity of our civilization at an individual scale, and it’s inspiring and exhausting. No wonder life is hard. How can it be simple, when you’re a living tufa, precipitated from millennia of history?
But it’s okay. All I can do is perceive and tend. And don’t forget to look back and see all that has been traveled.