The onset of a new season brings nostalgia.
A broken sweat reminding you of games played,
A fallen leaf inducing childlike need to hear a crack-
the death of this frail hand becoming a commodity for your joy.
A crocus in the snow stealing attention from the cold-
reminding you of the coldest days only as the moments they passed.
A frigid wind reminding you of all things warm-
all things warm that have saved you from it.
Nostalgia reigns supreme
On the mind of the thoughtful.
Be animal, let your human feel season.
Stand bare in the face of change-
memory will help you thrive if you let it.
I held a jewel in my fingers
And went to sleep.
The day was warm, and winds were prosy;
I said: “’T will keep.”
I woke and chid my honest fingers, —
The gem was gone;
And now an amethyst remembrance
Is all I own.
-The Lost Jewel, Emily Dickinson
This whole thing has me thinking. It’s sort of a mini-narrative on being quite vigilant about keeping the things you want and how easy it is to lose them. But then if you have to keep all the things you want, when the fuck are you supposed to sleep/eat/do anything? Is there any sense in keeping everything you want if you can’t enjoy it? So you sacrifice (a.k.a. sleep) and then you wake up. But now, when you’re enjoying what you sacrificed other things for, the burden of your sacrifice is absolutely distracting you from what you “want.” Do you ever make the right decision then? Is it even possible to have everything you want?
The burden of sacrifice is really getting me. How can someone honestly forsake something their heart desired at one point or another? Could you? Wouldn’t you find yourself enraged at your honest hands for letting it go? And what, then, do you do when it returns and invades- now a memory you yearn for, but at a different time in your life? Do you then pray it away knowing that a moment (that day with you and ya jewel) is gone? Can you live with the fact that the memory of that moment is all that’s left? That the jewel may not be the same when it is in your hands later with fresh cuts or cuts that were fresh then but now scars? Can you accept that the light will never hit that jewel the same way it did in your young hands as it will in your aging hands because we move closer to the sun everyday? CAN YOU EVEN DEAL?
And is the jewel representative of something material? Something tangible but less complicated than things we actually want (i.e. love family, trust, peace) and is that something we can learn/decide to not think about? I’m not entirely sure we’re capable of separating ourselves from material things, or even intangible things of personal value, that we choose to sacrifice in order to really give time to things that matter.