Turning Twenty
Now I've never enjoyed my birthdays. Rather, I've never enjoyed celebrating my birthdays; I don't make it a point to. Never did enjoy the fuss, although I recognise that I am privileged to have any of it at all. I don't relish well-intentioned hypocrisy, because it is, after all, hypocrisy. Nor do I take comfort in well-wishes born of obligation. Genuine ones, the ones that matter, are bestowed unto us by the closest of friends and loved ones, all throughout the year. Unless symbolism matters to you, what use one more? In the best interests of our convenience, and more importantly, our dignities, it would be best if no one ever wished anyone else a happy birthday, or indeed expect any well-wishes at all on one's own birthday.
I want no more than to be able to wake up to a beautiful morning, have my fill of plain, good food and find solace in the consolations of music, film, literature and philosophy for the rest of the day. It is not solitude that I desire; I might call a few people who matter. Meet people who matter more. But I do want to have a good day's living in my life on my birthday without being troubled, and without troubling anyone.
That said, how naggingly discomforting and awkwardly glacial that must be! because in spite of the embarrassment, inconvenience and general beastliness that surrounds receiving or giving toasts to an event that few truly remember or care for, it is human solidarity that is strengthened by the act. As individuals, we are not islands, entire of ourselves, for better or worse. We seek to be reaffirmed as part of the whole. So it goes with most activities in which we seek meaning.
It is solidarity that I wish to express when I write. To reveal thoughts that others never quite realise they've had all along, to grasp them warmly by the arm and say, "I'm with you. You're not alone, now, and neither am I.". And be it personal introspection or abstract, philosophical revelation, the high-minded or the trivial, there will always be something for everyone. There will always be meaning to be shared, and I am sure of it.
So this is what I'd like to do today. Write. Instead of going through the customary motions of giving and receiving, blessing and thanking, I'd like to share my thoughts on Turning Twenty. And with any luck, there will be something for you, dear Reader. If you've been tagged, it simply means that you've meant something to me in my teens, and have been Invited To The Party. It'll be up to you to figure out why. There are notable individuals who are absent from the List. I will apologise, and blame the tag limit.
Party-crashers are welcome. All are not obliged to stay.
----
art by Grace Lee
[Nineteen]
When I was nineteen, it was a very good year.
In many ways, it has been the best year of my life thus far. I do not say this on account of serendipity, although I have been fortunate. Nor do I say this on account of companionship and activity, although I have not been too lonely, nor have my days been too uneventful.
But I do say it on account of having learnt what I have. Experiences are secondary; experience is not. I say it on account of having sought and found. Finding is never enough; we must seek to find more. I say it on account - and this is paramount - of becoming the person I now am in the measure of a year. And nothing - nothing - can be more important.
I shall, however, put aside these distinctions and take stock of all that I have done, and describe both experience and experiences.
I have always found identity in music. Well, it was a good year for that. I found myself in an orchestra, and taught myself the fundamentals of the guitar. I made fresh discoveries aplenty: I left the blues, rock, and rock n' roll, but not before indulging in Mark Knopfler, Elvis Costello, Pink Floyd and The Doors. I took my leave of jazz, but not before bumping into Phish. I left these behind, only to find myself a home in the beautiful litany of contemporary folk. In folk, every verse is poetry, and everyone is a singer; it is music to be re-invented by all, for all. I re-acquianted myself with the original vagabond, finding more than I originally thought I did; he must have lost his voice by swallowing the enchanted ink that wrote his songs. I stayed a while with Earth mothers with voices from heaven. I touched the body of a flaxen-haired angel with my mind. I suffered with a wronged poet, drank with a lost child, and spoke with Nature's Boy.
In the meantime, I laid Euterpe's flute aside to put on guise and mask. It was an experience that I will definitely be having again in the future.
Then, there was the time well-spent on literature and philosophy. I read as much as I could, to make up for not having carried on with literature in school, and for not having taken KI, something which I regret very much. There was time well-spent, too, on other forms of non-fiction. I have learnt much about political, legal and international affairs. But most importantly, I carried on with a voyage which started with a reading of Sagan's seminal Cosmos, a book which kept me company on lonely evenings in the school library. You may think otherwise, but I love science, even though I've not been very good with it. There is nothing more important to human civilisation than Science, and scientific ways of thinking. Rationality. Logic. Empiricism. Science speaks truth to power. Dispels superstition. Lays waste to the darkness of the unknown. Beautifies the world by enlightening us to its mysteries. And it works. Science empowers Man.
It took a couple of months of coherent thought and reading for me to come to this significant conclusion, and then some more. Notably, it took a reading of Richard Dawkins' Selfish Gene to shake up my perception of the world. At just about the same time, I discovered Gene Roddenberry's Star Trek. Kurt Vonnegut. I re-read Douglas Adams and Philip Pullman, Clarke and Asimov. It didn't take me long to realise that they were all concinnously playing riffs on the same theme of humanism. They became my heroes, if they weren't already, and I quickly gained others. Hitchens. Harris. Dennett. Grayling. Pinker. Although I was already an atheist to begin with, it took this good year for me to put in words why, I am and how, I am one. And for the first time, I realised that people such as I had a banner to flock to, and a philosophy to claim.
Nineteen. A year short of Twenty. There could not have been a better time to come to terms with humanity. But enough about nineteen! and on to Twenty.
[Twenty]
we can no longer see Totoros in the Tsukamori Forest
Twenty is special, because we take our leave of youth, and lose its innocence. We can no longer see Totoros in the Tsukamori Forest. We will never return to Narnia. We find ourselves, and take leave of Neverland. Our daemons no longer change forms. We will have eaten from the Tree of Life.
Yet we should never regret it. I always did think of innocence and childhood as the most precious things that we could ever have. And it is true that we should treasure these above all when we remain in posession of them. But when knowledge comes to us, when we start going through the lonely desolation of this world with this terrible, heightened awareness of it, we must never be afraid, and especially not ashamed. Growing up is a dark and difficult process, but we learn so much from it, and we experience so much more beauty in the world that we never could possibly appreciate without knowledge. We must be proud of that, and be delighted with that. Be glad of Prometheum Flame. Be glad of the Fruit from the Tree of Life. Realise that mortality and knowledge are but gifts that allow us to savour and love the world for all that it can be, made more perilously treasurable in the face of death. It matters not if you believe in the teachings of Zeus or Yaweh. You don't need to be an atheist to realise this or to live this. Punishment or not, it is part of your condition. The human condition.
I leave my youth behind in exchange for all that I have learned. It has been worth it, and it will continue to be so.
Regrets? I've had a few. But be it for the sake of all the ignominy I've endured, for all the missed opportunities, for all the friends forgotten, enemies made and love lost, I would _never_ go back in time to change what I have been through. I am who I am because of my experiences, and am proud of it.
I will be no one else.
Goodbye Nineteen, and hello, Twenty. I haven't much more to say about you because we've barely known each other. Life has been beautiful for me, hope it's been great for you too, eh what? My journey has but only begun; it'll be lonely, so I'm pretty chuffed at having a companion on the road.
Let's get on with the next leg of Life.
****
art by Amy Sol
The Circle Game
Yesterday a child came out to wonder
Caught a dragonfly inside a jar
Fearful when the sky was full of thunder
And tearful at the falling of a star
Then the child moved ten times round the seasons
Skated over ten clear frozen streams
Words like "when you're older" must appease him
And promises of someday make his dreams
And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We're captive on the carousel of time
We can't return we can only look
Behind from where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game
Sixteen springs and sixteen summers gone now
Cartwheels turn to car wheels through the town
And they tell him "Take your time, it won't be long now" -
Till you drag your feet to slow the circles down
And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We're captive on the carousel of time
We can't return we can only look
Behind from where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game
So the years spin by and now the boy is twenty
Though his dreams have lost some grandeur coming true
There'll be new dreams, maybe better dreams and plenty
Before the last revolving year is through
And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We're captive on the carousel of time
We can't return we can only look
Behind from where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game
-- Joni Mitchell
"Round and round he walked, and so learned a very valuable thing: that no emotion is the final one."
Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit
-- Jeanette Winterson
----
art by William Joyce
If you've stayed with me thus far, thank you. I can only hope that it has been as meaningful to you as it has been for me.
Live life.
[fin]
I want no more than to be able to wake up to a beautiful morning, have my fill of plain, good food and find solace in the consolations of music, film, literature and philosophy for the rest of the day. It is not solitude that I desire; I might call a few people who matter. Meet people who matter more. But I do want to have a good day's living in my life on my birthday without being troubled, and without troubling anyone.
That said, how naggingly discomforting and awkwardly glacial that must be! because in spite of the embarrassment, inconvenience and general beastliness that surrounds receiving or giving toasts to an event that few truly remember or care for, it is human solidarity that is strengthened by the act. As individuals, we are not islands, entire of ourselves, for better or worse. We seek to be reaffirmed as part of the whole. So it goes with most activities in which we seek meaning.
It is solidarity that I wish to express when I write. To reveal thoughts that others never quite realise they've had all along, to grasp them warmly by the arm and say, "I'm with you. You're not alone, now, and neither am I.". And be it personal introspection or abstract, philosophical revelation, the high-minded or the trivial, there will always be something for everyone. There will always be meaning to be shared, and I am sure of it.
So this is what I'd like to do today. Write. Instead of going through the customary motions of giving and receiving, blessing and thanking, I'd like to share my thoughts on Turning Twenty. And with any luck, there will be something for you, dear Reader. If you've been tagged, it simply means that you've meant something to me in my teens, and have been Invited To The Party. It'll be up to you to figure out why. There are notable individuals who are absent from the List. I will apologise, and blame the tag limit.
Party-crashers are welcome. All are not obliged to stay.
----
art by Grace Lee
[Nineteen]
When I was nineteen, it was a very good year.
In many ways, it has been the best year of my life thus far. I do not say this on account of serendipity, although I have been fortunate. Nor do I say this on account of companionship and activity, although I have not been too lonely, nor have my days been too uneventful.
But I do say it on account of having learnt what I have. Experiences are secondary; experience is not. I say it on account of having sought and found. Finding is never enough; we must seek to find more. I say it on account - and this is paramount - of becoming the person I now am in the measure of a year. And nothing - nothing - can be more important.
I shall, however, put aside these distinctions and take stock of all that I have done, and describe both experience and experiences.
I have always found identity in music. Well, it was a good year for that. I found myself in an orchestra, and taught myself the fundamentals of the guitar. I made fresh discoveries aplenty: I left the blues, rock, and rock n' roll, but not before indulging in Mark Knopfler, Elvis Costello, Pink Floyd and The Doors. I took my leave of jazz, but not before bumping into Phish. I left these behind, only to find myself a home in the beautiful litany of contemporary folk. In folk, every verse is poetry, and everyone is a singer; it is music to be re-invented by all, for all. I re-acquianted myself with the original vagabond, finding more than I originally thought I did; he must have lost his voice by swallowing the enchanted ink that wrote his songs. I stayed a while with Earth mothers with voices from heaven. I touched the body of a flaxen-haired angel with my mind. I suffered with a wronged poet, drank with a lost child, and spoke with Nature's Boy.
In the meantime, I laid Euterpe's flute aside to put on guise and mask. It was an experience that I will definitely be having again in the future.
Then, there was the time well-spent on literature and philosophy. I read as much as I could, to make up for not having carried on with literature in school, and for not having taken KI, something which I regret very much. There was time well-spent, too, on other forms of non-fiction. I have learnt much about political, legal and international affairs. But most importantly, I carried on with a voyage which started with a reading of Sagan's seminal Cosmos, a book which kept me company on lonely evenings in the school library. You may think otherwise, but I love science, even though I've not been very good with it. There is nothing more important to human civilisation than Science, and scientific ways of thinking. Rationality. Logic. Empiricism. Science speaks truth to power. Dispels superstition. Lays waste to the darkness of the unknown. Beautifies the world by enlightening us to its mysteries. And it works. Science empowers Man.
It took a couple of months of coherent thought and reading for me to come to this significant conclusion, and then some more. Notably, it took a reading of Richard Dawkins' Selfish Gene to shake up my perception of the world. At just about the same time, I discovered Gene Roddenberry's Star Trek. Kurt Vonnegut. I re-read Douglas Adams and Philip Pullman, Clarke and Asimov. It didn't take me long to realise that they were all concinnously playing riffs on the same theme of humanism. They became my heroes, if they weren't already, and I quickly gained others. Hitchens. Harris. Dennett. Grayling. Pinker. Although I was already an atheist to begin with, it took this good year for me to put in words why, I am and how, I am one. And for the first time, I realised that people such as I had a banner to flock to, and a philosophy to claim.
Nineteen. A year short of Twenty. There could not have been a better time to come to terms with humanity. But enough about nineteen! and on to Twenty.
[Twenty]
we can no longer see Totoros in the Tsukamori Forest
Twenty is special, because we take our leave of youth, and lose its innocence. We can no longer see Totoros in the Tsukamori Forest. We will never return to Narnia. We find ourselves, and take leave of Neverland. Our daemons no longer change forms. We will have eaten from the Tree of Life.
Yet we should never regret it. I always did think of innocence and childhood as the most precious things that we could ever have. And it is true that we should treasure these above all when we remain in posession of them. But when knowledge comes to us, when we start going through the lonely desolation of this world with this terrible, heightened awareness of it, we must never be afraid, and especially not ashamed. Growing up is a dark and difficult process, but we learn so much from it, and we experience so much more beauty in the world that we never could possibly appreciate without knowledge. We must be proud of that, and be delighted with that. Be glad of Prometheum Flame. Be glad of the Fruit from the Tree of Life. Realise that mortality and knowledge are but gifts that allow us to savour and love the world for all that it can be, made more perilously treasurable in the face of death. It matters not if you believe in the teachings of Zeus or Yaweh. You don't need to be an atheist to realise this or to live this. Punishment or not, it is part of your condition. The human condition.
I leave my youth behind in exchange for all that I have learned. It has been worth it, and it will continue to be so.
Regrets? I've had a few. But be it for the sake of all the ignominy I've endured, for all the missed opportunities, for all the friends forgotten, enemies made and love lost, I would _never_ go back in time to change what I have been through. I am who I am because of my experiences, and am proud of it.
I will be no one else.
Goodbye Nineteen, and hello, Twenty. I haven't much more to say about you because we've barely known each other. Life has been beautiful for me, hope it's been great for you too, eh what? My journey has but only begun; it'll be lonely, so I'm pretty chuffed at having a companion on the road.
Let's get on with the next leg of Life.
****
art by Amy Sol
The Circle Game
Yesterday a child came out to wonder
Caught a dragonfly inside a jar
Fearful when the sky was full of thunder
And tearful at the falling of a star
Then the child moved ten times round the seasons
Skated over ten clear frozen streams
Words like "when you're older" must appease him
And promises of someday make his dreams
And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We're captive on the carousel of time
We can't return we can only look
Behind from where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game
Sixteen springs and sixteen summers gone now
Cartwheels turn to car wheels through the town
And they tell him "Take your time, it won't be long now" -
Till you drag your feet to slow the circles down
And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We're captive on the carousel of time
We can't return we can only look
Behind from where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game
So the years spin by and now the boy is twenty
Though his dreams have lost some grandeur coming true
There'll be new dreams, maybe better dreams and plenty
Before the last revolving year is through
And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We're captive on the carousel of time
We can't return we can only look
Behind from where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game
-- Joni Mitchell
"Round and round he walked, and so learned a very valuable thing: that no emotion is the final one."
Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit
-- Jeanette Winterson
----
art by William Joyce
If you've stayed with me thus far, thank you. I can only hope that it has been as meaningful to you as it has been for me.
Live life.
[fin]
Labels: life, music, poetry and verse, thoughts
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