Icarus
During a long hill climb on my run tonight, a passing car came up from behind me and snapped me out of my runner’s reverie. I looked up from my shoes to see no parking signs marking off the distance to the summit of the hill, above which the sun illuminated the sky a blush pink. Suddenly, I saw through it all, saw through it all so clearly that any attempt to explain comes off trite. And yet I’ll try anyway: I realized that my life, no matter what happens, is a gift, that good and bad events are all woven together into something I do not yet understand … all of this and so much more, an eternity in an instant. The event is hard to describe, transient as it was. I think it was what paradise feels like. I don’t believe, bound as we are to the limitations and worries of the world, we are able to experience that kind of perfection for very long.
Like a cactus craves every drop of rain, I wait for these scant jewels of perfect liquid to quench the thirst of my tired spirit. I play a game: trying to trap the memory of these moments, if not a bit of their feeling, somewhere in my crowded head. “Self?” I ask, “Can you remember that paradise is always in the other room, right next door, waiting to be discovered?”
I haven’t heard back yet, but I’m hoping for a “yes.”
Comments
Nils
Alex,
This feeling that you described very nearly resembles the feeling of "joy" that C.S. Lewis discovered and tried in vain to pursue for much of his early life. You should pick up his "Surprised by Joy" if you want to know more. It's a good book.
Alexander Micek
That's a good point, Nils - I will look into that book. Since I read his Chronicles of Narnia, I've always considered getting back to reading some more C.S. Lewis.