Sunday, January 18, 2009

Dad

Maybe it was just because I wanted someone to tell me "No", and because I was tired of the empty admiration of the poeple I would share my plans with, people who are unschooled to the pecimism that wisdom brings. Leaniancy is all I was looking for, some wild card hope in his eye, some benefit of uncertainty that I would capture and run with, the same uncertainty that lets a kid dream bigger than his surroundings ever allowed him to. My Father sat quietly as I walked him through that same ambitious plan, the personal Rosetta Stone with which I will  illogically reference and rationalize every decision from this point on. He read the words as the came out of my mouth, tonguing and maneuvering around each one and reciting them to himself under his breath. His face was unreadable, until he broke in with a usual pained expression that has worn well into the lines in his face; a mix of bitter disappointment and pleading, sorrowful grace. As it began to unravel before him perhaps it was the formative years of his life that spoke to him and begrudgingly spelt out the subtle nods that urged me on. He wanted me to believe the things that I wanted were impossible, that surely I would find the woman that would tie me down and keep me from pursuing that road where illusive spirit lies . He's afraid of these mistakes because he once called them his own, the ones he's made his peace with. The mistakes I was describing that night will surely surpass his own wildest 22 year old imagination. By convenience or coincidence, by design or by fate, picture the words and believe in them; hope will not leave me blind, and ambition never loses it's attractiveness. Find the road.


Mom


Near closing time on a late March evening, in an almost empty restaurant, I sat there with mom, who by then was completely frustrated with my habit of quick flings with California. Believing she actually had a moment with me to herself may have seemed too surreal, not that she would ever let me think so.  

If only I could fit all the necessary catching up into the neat ten day intervals in which I found myself there anymore. I could finally feel justified in all the things I imagined coming back to, instead of seeing them as the guilty pleasures of an embellished past. California is the imaginary place that I idolize and adore. The home I gratuitously boast about being from, and am not deserving of.  


It's the way I think of home as the place that I'm always leaving behind and never coming back to. Anything more than a visit to this place would just bring out all the ugliness that exists in everywhere I stop and look for it. The way we embrace and depart so impersonally, perceiving life as effortless, soon it's all a memory. I see California as a case study of my life. Being able to both cherish and reject all the things I despise and urge to change about myself can be found here. The weaknesses and imperfections that validate the uniqueness and fragility in each one of us have a  way of floating to the surface, granting us humility. These are mine. There's no sphere of control over events that mold us into the people we are, I truly beleive that. The average moments are the ones not worth holding onto, not fantastic enough to stand out amongst an endless series.  Some though, resonate on a more personal level, stretching beyond practicality and usefulness, that night at the restaurant was one of those.  


We ought to so warmly regard and identify with our most desperate and intimidating moments, realizing the beauty and emotion they elicit. It's the way we pause and feel the time as it washes over us, never growing old and never wanting to. As if we could live everyday reciting the mantra of treating life as it comes; as single day. As if we could sit solemnly there at the table, and as if being the only two people in the place meant our food was practically waiting for us when we sat down. As if that prolonged grace period hadnt led me to tell her precisely how I was going to contribute to the world over the next ten to twelve years. And what if she didnt, for once, hold in her complete confidence the direction and conviction of my most vivid dreams. I love my life, not necessarily for what it is, but what it will be, and what I believe it can become...