Sunday, February 19, 2012
I feel so crippled at times, with language. There is so much that language can not express. Like that moment under water, when a beam of sunlight fell on us and the marine life, when I had held the stranger trainer's hand, and rested my life on him; it was a dive of faith, a dip of calm and beauty that cleansed me of something, and I do not know what. I was aware of my existence, and of all that I do not know, all that I haven't seen and will never see. And now, when I think of that moment and try to capture it in words, I realize my inefficiency again, as a human being, as part of an inaccurate, subjective civilization which can not express even a minute fraction of all that it experiences. How vain of us to forget this truth and go on living like the center of the universe. How inadequate of us to even classify and generalize every unique tangible and intangible experience. I like the feeling of smallness, of being a tiny insignificant speck in the thread of the universe, as small or as big as the golden striped fish that slid through my toes and altered something inside me forever.