| Reading |
[Mar. 30th, 2007|10:31 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | inspired | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Tsotsi (Original Score) | ] | So during this lovely spring break, I've been doing nothing but exactly what I want to do. I've found myself a house in Boulder to rent, I've spent time with friends, I've taken the dogs for hikes and walks, I've relaxed and not left the house for 24 hours at a time, and I've been reading, too.
This reading part is important. I picked up Ishmael (by Daniel Quinn) from my bookshelf the other day. It's a book I read in 9th grade, except that in high school I never actually read anything. Rather, I skimmed it for whatever might be on the test and otherwise absorbed nothing. Rereading it, I had another one of those delightful life-changing experiences. I feel motivated, particularly to keep on learning and consume all the information I can.
That said, I picked up Collapse by Jared Diamond again. I'd put it down over a year ago when I started school, and since I picked it up the other day, haven't really been able to put it down. The density is that of a textbook, but I've laughed out loud several times and overall feel like I'm getting two semester's worth of information in a single read. Incredible.
All of this is confirming my interest in Geography, and the importance of it. I had thought that perhaps my interests were more in terms of Environmental Studies, but that's a combination of Geography and Geology anyway. Geography seems like a rich science to me, a conglomeration of so many other sciences and fields, and ultimately one of the most timely sciences of all--the study of people and places. I love that while reading Collapse I've been able to identify why certain regions of the world experience dry seasons or wet seasons, why they're dry or wet in general, why deforestation leads to lack of rain, etc. Starting in the middle of may, I'll be taking an intensive 5-days-a-week class with my sister on Environment and Peoples, which is a four thousand level seminar course, less than 20 people in it. I'm super-excited about that, too, for all number of reasons.
Anyway, it occurred to me the other day that I used to view life (or my life, anyway) as this beautiful, smooth, closed flower bud. It was simple and shiny and green, and perfectly formed--no weird angles jutting out or screwing with its simplicity. But then recently, with my return to school and all that's come with it, the bud has been opening one petal at a time, flinging open. And it's beautiful. It's unfolding wildly. And I've been stepping back and realizing that I'm actually in a field of these flowers, all of them in various stages of bloom. How naive I'd been to focus my attention solely on a single bud.
Excitement!
Before my sister left for Detroit last weekend, she said to me, "It must be really hard for you. You see all these injustices in the world, where I don't bother to notice them. They must depress you."
But it doesn't, not really. It doesn't depress me for a world of reasons, but among them is the fact that I don't feel powerless. I'm not infected with idealism, either...but since I feel that the only way to change something is through one step at a time, I do feel a sense of purpose. I'm not really concerned with solving the big picture--I'm concerned with solving each footstep at a time as it relates to me. If I make everything a personal journey, then the only thing I have to fulfill is myself.
That's comforting, and also very realistic, I think.
Enough rambling. Off to clean the house.
Also, Tsotsi, the foreign film, is a must-see. And the original score is breathtaking. |
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