Climate Change
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As a child, I loved the Winter. I’d pray for the same snow storms I now damn to hell. Images of snowball fights, fortifications fashioned from packed snow and ice visit my memory… I remember them fondly. I remember frosty-breathed walks to Community Park, dragging my orange Chevrolet toboggan diligently throughout the streets and sidewalks of my small hometown. I remember burrowing through mounds of snow, piled high by plows, in the corner of the church parking lot. We’d spend hours tunneling without a single grievance regarding the weather.
Four Boys on a Sled, Norman Rockwell. Original from Country Gentleman Magazine cover, December 27, 1919.
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Such is life, I suppose, prior to feeling the weight of the world crush one’s youthful spirit.
I guess the point I’m meandering towards pertains to the importance of emotion. Some walks of life, beliefs, or ideologies suggest we benefit from suppressing (or, outgrowing) our feelings. “Get your head out of the clouds!”… “Grow up!”… “Act your age!”… And, if these things aren’t actually being said to us, modernity surely has its way of conveying the message without words… The death of loved ones, divorce, betrayal, being separated from your family, rejection (from an individual or perhaps from society altogether), financial obligations, dissatisfying employment, unemployment, stress, anxiety!… Over time, beatings like these take their toll on one’s playfulness. I remember a story I once read, parts of it anyway, although I can’t recall its title or author. I wish I could however because it’s a story I would rather enjoy reading again. Anyway, a particular concept written of therein speaks to me... There came a part in the fiction wherein a pivotal character had been captured and held in a cage. Captivity came as an unprecedented torture to the character. And, more notably, indescribable… The then-imprisoned character had no words to explain being held captive. In fact, |
she couldn’t even explain the notion of “Freedom”. You see, the culture from which she came had no word for “Freedom” because they never needed one having never experienced (or thought of) the lack thereof.
What if we never needed a word for “Happiness”, “Forgiveness”, or “Love”? What if our minds never knew the debilitating embrace of sadness, blame, and hatred? Imagine if there were no need to say “I love you” because the concept is so innate, so engraved within our nature that it goes without saying; the fear that anything less could be possible is nonexistent. Our children love us before they know the word “love”. And, they only start saying so in words because we teach them too. We teach them to because, as adults (sustaining the abuses we commit towards one another) we need to hear it to believe. We need to hear it from our children; we need to hear it from one another. We’ve violated each other’s trust and the innocence we knew as children… I’m not sure if you love me unless you say it, and even then I don’t believe it unless I hear it everyday.
What if we never needed a word for “Happiness”, “Forgiveness”, or “Love”? What if our minds never knew the debilitating embrace of sadness, blame, and hatred? Imagine if there were no need to say “I love you” because the concept is so innate, so engraved within our nature that it goes without saying; the fear that anything less could be possible is nonexistent. Our children love us before they know the word “love”. And, they only start saying so in words because we teach them too. We teach them to because, as adults (sustaining the abuses we commit towards one another) we need to hear it to believe. We need to hear it from our children; we need to hear it from one another. We’ve violated each other’s trust and the innocence we knew as children… I’m not sure if you love me unless you say it, and even then I don’t believe it unless I hear it everyday.
Ridiculous. But, this isn’t about Love (not at all, I just tend to drift off topic while indulging a good rant). It’s about the shift from “having fun” to “having to”. When I were child, dragging my toboggan down the sidewalk, I was happy to be outside braving the Ohio cold. Now, I’m a turrets syndrome victim just because I have to put air in my tires on a cold, windy Winter’s day. The air’s no colder than it were 30 years ago… But, sadly, I fear that I may be. As always... Thanks for Reading.
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