So Called Chaos

Funny, sad, interesting, common responses of mine. I want to get past learned responses, expectations of responses in conversations.

My mom became audibly comptemplative today, sweeping up the shop. "what is life about anyway, I mean theres gotta be a purpose." My jaw dropped right open, I rarely hear her say anything full of thought like that. It's unlike her usual topics, neighborhood gossip, nice little doses of high contrast religion, flow of the day, wanting to be rich again like when she was single, or humorous responses. She usually laughs at questions like that but with her back to the door, she looked down at her cracked hands withered away by shampoos and coloring chemicals, asked herself what purpose meant. She'd talk like that sometimes after her knee surgery, couped up in her room. That kind of talk from her will usually surprise me. Driving around, she pointed up at the moon, "i like those thin moons". Just seeing her in a rare state of wonder was satisfying.

Dreams are something I have been thinking about alot lately.
Everyone has dreams kept far from public. We usually see dreams only as just that --far. The present almost doesn't exist to us as humans. Always clouded by the trails of fear tread in the past, and an anxiety about the slow and thick curtain of the future. Only the known and the unknown. The current moment usually can't be lived, we as humans are scattered about in different times and places, never really completely present where we stand. Always clawing and and holding empty grips for more, and more once the ordered supply has arrived. We seem to judge things only by impressions and predictions, beforehand, and long reviews after the matter. But should we really have to have the door slammed shut?
Do things really need to leave before people can know the worth of something? I don't think so.

Why do we always hang our dreams up so high up and far away from us? Like the porchlight Gatsby would stare off at musingly, a speck of green in the distance. The pursuit had polluted him, he expected it to be more, to be different, to be enrapturing. He never could stay mystified by that light, or the woman who lit the light at dusk upclose, as the way he could from a distant stance. He loved mostly the tease, the luring of the dream, not the attainment of the dream.

Not to say that being subserviently content is the answer either. There is also danger in that. Awareness and a willingness to appreciate is all that is required. We shouldn't confuse the feeling of achievement with a drunken like bliss, or expect to be completely swept away. Live yourself into all things to misquote or requote Miss Keller. Why assume that achievement of our dreams will reduce themselves to our whims?

Emily Dickinson wrote "You love me best when I refuse". Though this is different from the topic of how we covet our dreams and easily discard them afterward, it can apply. No will drive someone up a wall. Yes, well, we expect yes. We stamp and label yes, treat it to dazzling lights, trumpeting music in the background of found glory. While aspiring and expecting dreams, We become petty, shooting off preferences at first sight of a yes. It shouldn't have to be you never know what you had until you've lost it. We need to know how to evaluate what is right with us, when it is with us. Past, present and future should be equally embraced, balanced and observed.

I really do believe that current humanity is afraid of anything too raw. We want coffee but not without milk, a pinch of sugar.