“And if the elevator tries to bring you down, go crazy. Punch a higher floor.”
(Sent this to the Kid for his birthday, and liked it so much I’ve decided to post it here….)
“What lies behind the Kid and what lies before the Kid are small matters compared to what lies within the Kid.” ~Emerson
“When he hath tried me, I shall come forth as the Kid.” ~Job
“The Kid is not an independently existing, unanalyzable entity. The Kid is, in essence, a set of relationships that reach outward to other things.” ~Henry Stapp
“The Kid doesn’t have to be what you want him to be. He’s free to be what he wants.” ~Muhammad Ali
I highly recommend this article (“Odd Emotions“) in Psychology Today by Rebecca Webber, especially if you (1) are someone who feels a broad range of complex emotions and (2) have been raised in a world that only acknowledges (let alone condones) a handful of them.
“If one wants to be active, one mustn’t be afraid to do something wrong sometimes, not afraid to lapse into some mistakes. To be good – many people think that they’ll achieve it by doing no harm – and that’s a lie…. That leads to stagnation, to mediocrity. Just slap something on it when you see a blank canvas staring at you with a sort of imbecility.
You don’t know how paralyzing it is, that stare from a blank canvas that says to the painter you can’t do anything. The canvas has an idiotic stare, and mesmerizes some painters so that they turn into idiots themselves.
Many painters are afraid of the blank canvas, but the blank canvas is afraid of the truly passionate painter who dares – and who has once broken the spell of “you can’t.”
Life itself likewise always turns towards one an infinitely meaningless, discouraging, dispiriting blank side on which there is nothing, any more than on a blank canvas.
But however meaningless and vain, however dead life appears, the man of faith, of energy, of warmth, and who knows something, doesn’t let himself be fobbed off like that. He steps in and does something, and hangs on to that…”
~Vincent van Gogh
“The earth was warm under me, and warm as I crumbled it through my fingers. Queer little red bugs came out and moved in slow squadrons around me. Their backs were polished vermilion, with black spots. I kept as still as I could. Nothing happened. I did not expect anything to happen. I was something that lay under the sun and felt it, like the pumpkins, and I did not want to be anything more. I was entirely happy. Perhaps we feel like that when we die and become a part of something entire, whether it is sun and air, or goodness and knowledge. At any rate, that is happiness; to be dissolved into something complete and great. When it comes to one, it comes as naturally as sleep.”
~Willa Cather, from My Antonia
Chills. When the earth disappeared, I actually felt a bit scared, as if I were lost at sea. Later, when I read “and back to our home,” I actually felt homesick, and was looking forward to the journey, very much.
“I dunno what to tell you, Marge! I don’t think about things. I mean, I respect those who do, but… I just try and make the day not hurt until I can crawl back in with you.”