|
Why were we scared to be honest to each other? Tony had a point there that was worth exploring, and so we explored it further. During the exploration it occurred to us that the question of honesty was a question more central to peace than everything that had been said at the conference up to this point, including all of our own speeches. That's how the idea of the girl-watching speech project became seriously launched.
We agreed that there was something special about this country of perpetual warmth that was reflected in the bright and colorful clothing that the people wore, especially the girls. The guys were less daring, less adventuresome, more stuffy, perhaps somewhat scared to reflect the lighthearted mood of this country. Thus, sitting in the open pub as we were, near the cinema's entrance, was like being in a garden of dancing flowers, a ballet of a beautiful humanity. Also, everywhere in the background was this lovely rhythmic music of Latin America that one invariably begins to tap to.
My thoughts went back in time, a long way back, when I had been ill with what was thought to be a rare type of cancer. At such a point, when one is close to death, one becomes most intensely alive. I should have resigned my position and taken a drawn out vacation to the end of my life, but I couldn't for financial reasons. I had never quit, not a single day during the entire five year long struggle. Then the remission occurred. It was preceded by an epoch of desperate hours, a time when as simple a matter as going to the bathroom was a triumph when it worked. In such a time one sees the world with a new perspective. One questions everything; one looks at everything more critically; feels for everything, even as one searches for the meaning of everything.
There were times in those days when a symphony concert became an immense event. One begins to realize in such a state what a great treasure human existence is. I stared at the ceiling in the symphony hall. As I did, I looked beyond its thin crust to realize what a marvel I was privileged to witness and to be a part of, something that might not be found again within a million light-years, if indeed a match could be found at all. The same concerts that I had listed to so casually before, had suddenly become an immense marvel, a marvel that people had put together with great ingenuity. The intricate sound-work of the symphony, the instrumentation, the harmonies, the orchestrations and the subtle shifts in feelings they invoked, which altogether made up this marvel, were all marvels in themselves. The end result was a marvel beyond marvels that could never be explained on the basis of mere molecular theory.
Also besides the symphony, there was the building that human beings had built for themselves to house their music. And in this building too, there was the rich texture of our humanity present in the people's closing that went far beyond what was necessary just to keep warm. The clothing was meant to make the people attractive to one-another, to make them comfortable to be with one-another. In addition, there was that exquisite order in which we all came together and assembled, and then dispersed when the music was over. The human marvel was so infinitely tall in my eyes, in those days, that no other marvel in the universe could match it.
And possibly greater than all of that, was the marvel of being aware of it. A stone isn't aware of its existence, a tree perhaps, an animal to some degree, but a human being!!! God, I couldn't care less that I ached when I hobbled slowly back to my car after the concert, to the underground garage were the car was kept dry and warm. What was a pain compared to being alive, compared to being consciously at one with this marvelous human race whose measure had challenged my perception of the meaning of infinity itself.
I told the people at the pub about this period of my life of a long time ago.
Next Page
|| - page index -
|| - chapter index -
|| - Exit -
||
|
