11 September 2012

A kiss on the wind and we'll make the land

Sometimes, it looks as though you are reading my mind, that we are tuned to the same frequency, that our desires align. We search one another's actions in so far as possible, but more, we search one another's words, looking for subtext, seeking clues, willing useful information to appear.

I've struggled all these years with the place where reality and illusion intersect. What is and what I want, trying to believe that they are the same thing. But I'm far too rational to accept that at face value. I ask: what have I projected on what is? Where have I created a complicated mosaic that completes the picture I like when a very simple and less desirable outcome might be the truth? For a moment, I convince myself of the miracle and run toward it with all my heart until my unbelievably reasonable (and absolutely no fun) brain pulls me up short and asks, "Pardon me, but are you insane?"

So I amass evidence with the idea of convincing myself that no, I am not insane, and yes, this is what is going on, and yes, I should be heading that direction full tilt...

And reason rolls its eyes at me.

Meanwhile, you are watching all of this out of context, so you probably imagine that I am a madwoman or at the least, very fickle. At which point, you roll your eyes at me.

And I'm sad.

On and on it goes.

It's my fault, I'm the first to admit. I lack confidence when it comes to challenging my rational brain's suggestion that it's all far too improbable. I think of all the times I could have done something different, and lost my nerve because, well, wouldn't it all be a miracle? Or a lot of wishful thinking. But when I look at, on the face of it, your face on it, reason says that yes, there is no rational explanation that excludes the miracle.

(Yes, you can read that again. I'll wait.)

Miracles, real miracles, aren't magical, I think. They don't arise from fate or some mysterious being. When you think about it, they stem from choice. They only look magical because sometimes they seem so improbable or they arise from circumstances that weren't immediately obvious. But do we see them as improbable only because we missed or misread the probability? We made a choice to be in the same place at the same time because we liked the same thing. We are tuned to the same frequency and our desires align. So really it's no wonder.

Well, it is a wonder. It's a miracle!

Most assuredly, I am not the thing miracles are made of. But it's possible I am someone miracles are made for. Improbability only exists because I said it did.

At which point, I can almost believe.

And if you meet me half way...

Go listen to some good music: "Jig of Life" from the album Hounds of Love by Kate Bush. Yes, this very much has a point, and was written for a particular situation, though it has plenty of applications. Also, I started having an irrational amount of fun with it. As a musical note, I listened to this album incessantly when it came out, and it brought joy and hope to an otherwise rather dark time in my life. Funny how that happens.

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