Ends and Beginnings

Whoo, buddy.

A lot has been happening. The best thing about it is the little bit of time I have and the no bit of money I have, which makes for the perfect environment to untangle my thoughts and experiences. Where to start…

It’s winter and I’m pretty happy.

There’s something about walking around in the winter. There’s this kind of instant camaraderie that connects anyone you meet while walking to town in February. It’s like we’re in a special club of people who can get through the cold weather just fine, thank you. This is what made camping in the winter so incredible. No one does it, so everyone that does instantly shares an intimate connection.

I guess the only other thing I can say right now is that I’m really into the whole period between the 17th and 18th centuries right now. I’ve been driving around a lot, delivering maple syrup, and I’ve been blazing through the library’s audiobook section. So far, I’ve caught up on everything from Sherlock Holmes and the Great Gatsby to Catch 22 and A Confederacy of Dunces.

What really got me going, though, was picking up Robinson Crusoe. What does it mean when I find myself constantly wanting to be in his shoes?

A cave house with stores of powder and shot, fields of corn and rice, herds of goats that you tamed and bred, and the means to make your own raisins.

That kind of sums up what I want to do. I know I’m being a little short sighted and the idea of not speaking to another soul for some twenty years would be a little rough. This raises an interesting point. Would he have done it all if he weren’t alone?

I think the allure of this story for me is the idea of being able to do something without the influence of anyone else. Not in a “Now I can do whatever I want, No Pants Dance!” kind of way, but just being able to get lost in a task for no other reason than the intrinsic motivation of it. Not thinking, “Boy, I hope that Dan really likes these raisins.” Maybe I’ve just had too many rough room mate situations.

I think this speaks a lot about my personality, though. If I’m delighted by the idea of being stranded on a tropical island, does that mean I can’t stand to be around other people? Maye that’s a bit extreme. I like people a lot. I think it’s more accurate to say that I care so much about people, that I can lose track of myself in them. I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately. What to do, what to think. Ultimately, though, I’ve found that moving towards being who I am is better for everyone.

Especially me.


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