Momentous

April 19, 2010

In my short stint on this watery blue sphere, I have come to realize that the most monumental events in life do not occur on schedule. They are not organized or denoted. These memorable moments are not penciled in, nor do they come with a guest list, map, or itinerary.

I have yet to experience a birthday as illustrious as my first concert. I have yet to walk in a graduation that I recall as vividly as falling in love. In my head, there area vast number of moments that changed me forever. Some so brief, they flash by almost subliminally.

And I feel the feeling I forgot.

In an instant, a smell, a taste, a sound, can bring it all back. That time. That place. That second where everything felt so… infinite.

Being 14 on a winter’s day, walking the streets of suburbia with Nirvana in the DiscMan. Steely greys, desolate landscape. This place is a ghost town. Flash. Being 5 and watercoloring in the cool early morning sun of a summer’s day. I’m at a Fischer Price picnic table drinking a Mott’s apple juice box. An innocent. Flash. Being 19, rolling in the grass of a summer music festival. Belly full of wine, air smells of fried food. Spinning dizzy, smiles, kisses and dirt. Flash.

No video, audio, or photographic medium could ever capture the essence of these times. These moments could not be bottled, framed, or uploaded. They were not planned or anticipated. They just were.

Fully and completely lived-in moments. Times so well-placed and familiar, I often revisit them in my head, like dogeared pages of a favorite book. I can go back and be there. If only for a second. Times so beautiful, so sensory, I can hold them, they can make me cry.

Sometimes I think we forget to live for the moments we truly live in. We get so caught up in the necessity for documentation, organization, and fanfare, that we let these little existential pearls slip by unheralded.

It’s a simple thing to misplace your sense of wonder.

You are told a lot about your education, but some beautiful, sacred memory, preserved since childhood, is perhaps the best education of all. If a man carries many such memories into life with him, he is saved for the rest of his days. And even if only one good memory is left in our hearts, it may also be the instrument of our salvation one day. [[TheBrothersKaramazov.FyodorDostoevsky]]

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3 Responses to “Momentous”

  1. Musicloverchick Says:

    Ahhh, great post…. As I grow older and the mind is muddled with bullshit, scents and subtle sounds are the flint that ignite my most favorite memories:-)

  2. BathtubGym Says:

    Another great post Kat.

    http://davidwilcox.com/index.php?page=songs&display=448&category=East_Asheville_Hardware

    I was listenting to this song at my desk when I saw the Tweet and decided to read your blog for a little break.

    It might look to you like nothing much to see
    But you should see the way it feels to me

    Here’s the sidewalk I used to ride my bike
    Down this little slope, down my little mountain

    Start by the driveway spinning up to speed
    Careful on the gravel ’cause it’s nasty on the knees

    Watch out for the branches on that apple tree
    Soar down to the corner

    Well I guess it’s not as high as I remember
    It might not be a mountain after all
    But it was hard enough to climb

    And steep enough to coast
    Long enough to satisfy
    And fast enough to boast

    It may look to you like nothing much to see
    But you should see the way it feels to me

    Here’s the treehouse, I used to spend my night
    Up this little tree, way up in my mansion
    Jump to the first branch, walk it upside down

    Careful of your grip ’cause it’s a long way to the ground
    Better get a handhold before you look around
    You can see into forever

    Well I guess it’s not as high as I remember
    It might not be a mansion after all
    But it was hard enough to climb
    And safe enough to sleep
    Big enough to satisfy
    And home enough for me

    It may look to you like nothing much to see
    But you should see the way it feels to me

    Here’s the old man who used to be the child
    So long ago, not so very long though

    Look at the memory, think of all those years
    Looking through the sparkle of the sunlight in the tears
    Better take another look before you disappear
    You can see across your lifetime

    So I look at where I’ve come and where I’m going
    I will never be the greatest after all
    But it was hard enough to climb
    To get to where I’ve been
    Love enough to satisfy
    And life enough to live

    I make look to you like nothing much to be
    But you should see the way it feels to me
    You should see the way it feels to me

  3. Frogythegreat Says:

    Nice I like this post. Stays on track, to the point. And poignant. Thanx for sending me back for five.


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