I teared up in public today. Twice. I’ve never felt completely comfortable crying, but to find myself surrounded by people and knowing that there are tears streaming down my face. I can hear some friends insist that it is okay, and that most of the time people are not even paying attention to you. But it still feels like the whole world is watching you. As I type these words I am in an airplane flying from Houston to Denver, where I’ll wait for my connecting flight home. I had trouble sleeping last night. The last two mornings I had been woken around 6am by the alarm clock in the room next door, an unoccupied room, going off but that didn’t happen this morning. I just couldn’t sleep.
I went to bed last night because I was engrossed in a new book, The Promise by Chaim Potok. I hadn’t planned to stay up passed midnight reading but I couldn’t help myself. I was thoroughly engrossed in the story. It was a sequel, of sorts, to The Chosen. Several weeks ago while walking around Borders I happened about the second book, and a day later I went out and purchased it, but I didn’t read it right away. I’ve been rather leery of books lately, for whatever reason. When I was packing for this trip I slipped those two books into my back. I started reading The Chosen Thursday night or sometime Friday. It was a book I had read in college, and meant to return to and some point but had never gotten back to it. I had loaned it on to a couple people insisting it was a must read. I wanted to reread the first book before I tackled the second and I was most glad I did. I was amazed at this story and how involved I became in the reading of it. I was at a museum yesterday afternoon, and I had it in my back pocket so I would have something to read while standing in line or waiting at a restaurant. I vaguely remember tearing up then today but I was particularly struck today as I sat in the airport, waiting for my flight. We were about to board but I couldn’t completely tear myself away from the story as it got to a really emotional segment. To be clear, I finished The Chosen yesterday evening and was nearing the end of The Promise. The sad part for me right now is that I now have no more reading material for my flight, an hour to go on this leg and nearly 2 hours on the next. The second book isn’t nearly as good or impactful as the first, but still worth the read. And there were so many allusions to other works that it has ignited my desire to read more. I find myself wanting to pull out Camus again, finally tackle Joyce and perhaps steer my way through Buber. Not that the book is about any of these authors but they are mentioned and I sense I would understand better if I read these works. All books I’ve had “on my shelf” for years but haven’t finished or even started, as the case of Joyce reveals. It also makes me a little sad to think what we seem to have lost in the area of education.
I’m going to have to stop writing soon. The quarters are quite cramped on this flight. I have a gentleman in the seat in front of me who put his seat back, w/ no regard to me aat all. And I’m barely able to type; I certainly can’t see what I am writing. I suppose this would be a moment when having a smaller computer would be nice, but I still love my big, widescreen laptop. I shall write more later. There is so much to say. Words do matter.
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I’m in Denver right now, waiting for my next flight. We arrived here a little late, but I had a 2 hour layover anyway, so it hasn’t affected me adversely. I was sitting at the back of the previous plane and I found myself a little impatient w/ the people around me as we disembarked. I had that same feeling last night as I was trying to navigate The Galleria mall in Houston. I think the Quizno’s for lunch helped settle me down some. I just wish I could find a place to plug in my laptop so I am not draining my batteries. I also wish I could find free wireless internet access here. Too bad I’m not an AT&T Wireless user.
The last few days have been rather full and I kept telling myself I should be writing, trying to put my thoughts down on paper (in or out of order), but I kept putting it off. And now I am sitting here completely unsure of what to say. There is so much going through my head right now. Mostly about silence, and words. Last time I was flying through Denver I had a layover so I could see my friend Mandy. I think that was the last time I saw her: 3.5 years ago. It was March or April of 2001, right before I decide between PLTS and Gettysburg for seminary. Odd how those moments come back to haunt you years later. It would not be possible this time around because of the amount of security throughout airports these days. As I sat at the back of the plane, staring over the heads of the passengers in front of me, I was reminded of riding in a bus in January, doing the same thing. I wanted to close that memory off, but wasn’t able to do that. I was talking to Ivy about movies the other night. I had brought a couple dozen DVDs w/ me and one of them was Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Somedays it would be wonderful to have that procedure. There is indeed a blessing to forgetfulness but the greater gift, the greater charisma if you will is memory.
As I write those words, there is a Jewish feel to them; or at least it is to my ears. It is the word “memory.” There is a Holocaust museum in Houston. I did not get a chance to visit it but I was reminded of my visit to the one in DC. It took me 2 years of living in that are before I could work up the courage and nerve to go. I was scared of what it would do to me but I am glad I went. Remembrance is important. Memorializing is important. I suppose I am in a Jewish state of mind after reading Potok. My mind wanders to Wiesel, mostly because I so wish I was at BU and able to take a class from him. It’ll happen, I have faith. But the waiting is the harder part of valor. Waiting is also the greater gift. I am being quite allusiory today and I am not sure how I feel about that. I was writing little piece once and I couldn’t help but constantly refer to someone else’s thoughts. Ivy was the one who pointed this out to me and asked me, “What do you think?” Thinking for ourselves is a scary business. It is so much easier to let others think for you. But how do people do that? What madness.
I ended up at the Houston Museum of Natural Science. Odd for me, I know. I thought about driving to the Space Center, but since I had been to NASA, twice, I thought I might try something different. There was an IMAX showing of Santa vs the Snowman (this one was not in 3D L). But the main reason for going was a display about the Dead Sea Scrolls. I thought Cas might be a little jealous. I was so glad I went but confused by why it was at that particular museum. It seemed more appropriate to a history museum. I had a similar thought this summer seeing a baseball exhibit at the Smithsonian. That one was at the Natural History not American History museum, but oh well. I was lucky to have someone from Wittenberg in town, Dr Stephan Rhein. He too wanted to see the exhibit, so we met up there and he paid for my ticket. On top of that, the church which was hosting the exhibit had a pastor whose husband was a professor of Hebrew literature. He was our tour guide. There were written placards and a pre-recorded audio commentary, but his answers to my bombarding questions were far more enlightening that anything I heard on those headphones. What has been lost from time and memory? If anything though, the exhibit showed that there is still some hope that what was lost can be recovered.
I need to go before my computer completely dies on me. It’ll be a long flight w/out something to read. I thought about bringing an additional book but I didn’t want to have my bags too full and I honestly didn’t expect I would need it. Next time I’ll trust my instincts more.
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I am home now, but too tired to write anymore so I shall leave it at this.
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