Postponing Icarus
Photo by Zoë Maxwell - "Ziggy"
But, do the birds ever attempt to fly towards the sun? Aren't they known to be attracted towards shiny things? Their stamina allows some of them to fly for up to 200 days, sleeping and eating in the air. there's some proof that have shown birds to be curious animals. How many birds have been entranced enough by the mystique of our star, to take the fatal journey, not knowing that the lack of oxygen or the bitter cold would eventually render them unsuccessful? How many have died at an attempt? Zero? There must have been one Icarus among the birds in Earth's history.
I'm a curious creature, but at the same time I enjoy saving even the smallest of mysteries for later. There are times where I soak in the sun during strolls in solitude, with my curated playlist of the season pulsing through my ears. The scenery filled with the gifted greens and blues of Mother Earth. One of my greatest pleasures, and yet, I don't do it often enough. I'm a scared creature, I don't want to lose the magic I feel during those ventures through repetition.
It's like when I'm outside, running or tossing a football, swimming beneath the waves - better yet, hurling my body straight into them. I can't enjoy these activities in an organized manner; running regularly - while I certainly enjoy the routine, doesn't give me the same fulfillment as when I'm spontaneously sprinting through a canyon, climbing boulders, and dodging trees. I don't get the sudden realization, the appreciation for the moment - the happiness doesn't hit me as hard as when I've been prepared. These bits of cherished excitement, I allow them only to seep into my soul by surprise. Sure, I could go back to my regimen of boardwalk runs each morning at 7am - feeling fantastic throughout my day and consuming seven meals per day without a morsel of guilt. It's easy, it feels nice, it's healthy. But, the spontaneity brings me back to childhood. It brings me back to those raw moments where I would be so ecstatic for the rest of my life. Knowing that these intense jolts of joy would come in each of my promised experiences awaiting me beyond the horizon. The feeling of moving city to city, reminding myself of the independence I've achieved. Meeting a future lifelong friend, that first click in my brain when I truly know they'll play a significant role in my life for years to come. These are the moments I live for. There are also those that i know will be so overwhelming, that any prior inclination i have of how i will feel in that moment will be minuscule in comparison, like the immense and indescribable sensations of staring into the eyes of your newborn for the first time. I want as many of these 'Kodak moments' as possible, stacked up in the epicenter of my memory closet to be shared.
So why do I stay comfortable? Why do I hibernate for days at a time in my apartment when I could simply go for a walk - people watching, breathing in fresh air? Why is it that I suddenly fear my existence on the public sidewalk? Why do I feel like I don't belong there without a concrete destination? Because, I'm simply a procrastinator - even when it comes to enjoying life. As I know I'll always get my work done on time (and done well), I'm confident I can rack up all of the quintessential life events at my desired pace: slowly, but, surely. I save the best moments for later, and it doesn't bother me too often. When I finally get out into the world and journey, without strings, without destination - I finally feel alive. More importantly, the smaller things become magnified - "wow, I've never walked down this road before. What a lovely garden, I should sit for a moment and smell the hydrangeas". It's not a feeling of participating in society, but, a feeling of being free and inquisitive. What is happening out here, should I take the long way or the short? Let's see how many stops I should take, let's see what kind of nonsensical route I can wander into today. how ridiculous i must sound for avoiding taking walks too often, due to worry that i won't enjoy them as much in the future?
For the last six months I've really had such little responsibility, more than enough free time for years in my book. I like to keep busy, but I've allowed myself to take a break from the forced madness. I allow myself to be couched, consuming all of the media I've missed out on over the years. I haven't been writing, I don't finish that book I've been working on since January. When I get to the climax of a story, I unconsciously put it down for weeks, months. I don't want the adventure to end, I don't want that moment of feeling in another world to go away. After a long enough hiatus, I forget what's happened and continue flipping the pages. Quickly, I'm back home. I'm encapsulated by the fictional world the author has built into my head and the addictive, familiar adrenaline flows through me all over again.
This is just how I am.
So, this random post - is an apology for not posting anything new in months. It's also a reminder to myself that it's perfectly fine to take breaks - vacations make the return to work stronger and inspired. I'm looking forward to expanding this personal project in the next six months to come. New and refreshed beginnings have been a positive addition to my life and I can't wait to document. But, I'm mostly excited to take a look back on the memories I've made back in France. I hope I haven't forgotten too much, I guess we'll see!
- T Tran