Wednesday, February 25, 2009

I saw the comet Lutin through one of the telescopes at work tonight. It's a small, greenish blur of icy dust making its last orbit of our sun before escaping forever into the blackness beyond. In the eyepiece of the telescope, it looks small and distant, faint and lonely. There's something special about seeing it, knowing that soon nobody will ever see it again. Ever.

I can apply that feeling to many other aspects of my life too. I've always been drawn towards the uncommon, be it music, rarely spotted local wildlife, or... just about anything really.

It reminds me of a conversation I had with Nathan and one of his friends today. We were talking about how words and images lose meaning through endless repetition. If you mindlessly repeat something enough times, it loses its power... (I just remembered - we were talking about Island of the Blue Dolphin, which the kids are reading in the fourth grade, and how each character has a secret name, and how names have power...). This caused me to think about the Pledge of Allegiance, endlessly repeated by school kids across the country. Some days, I actually have to recite this pledge twice (we do it at camp, and then again at the school where I student teach). This has always seemed so pointless to me. I can remember mouthing the words as a kid, and refusing to stand as a teenager and young adult. Now, I have to lead it as part of my job as night supervisor, and as a teacher. This is at odds with my desire to teach children how to think for themselves. The Pledge, endlessly repeated, has no power. It is spoken without thought. In addition to this, the wording presupposes a belief in a single deity above us. Not that anybody ever really thinks about it though...

I propose we rename the Pledge of Allegiance something more accurate - perhaps the Moment of Mindless Mouthing.

Of course, I'd be so fired if I actually did this in class. That's how they get us - economically. It's a good thing there are other ways to help kids think for themselves.

May our experiences always be fresh, and free from the dullness of repetition. May our relationships always be rich, and likewise be free from the atrophy caused by routine and ruts. That is my wish for today.

Go out and see Lutin before it vanishes. It's near Saturn right now. Soon it will be beyond. It will not repeat. I salute it for venturing off the beaten path.

Currently listening to: Fields of Shit "House of Cards"

2 comments:

Prettylittlecrow said...

A joyful birthday both your sweet daughter and to you as a father. These things came to be on the same day, after all.

I have a little girl, too. Tiger will soon be five and the fleeting moments of her new and magical life are much like that comet roaring beyond. They are so scarce, so significant and so deserving of my intensely appreciative eye.

Day to day, I fight to remember that her wonder comes from all that is common to me. Motherhood (the most ordinary part of my life) is wrapped around what is heart-breakingly rare.

Feel free to compile your own list of cliche sayings to which I have alluded! Ha!

dr silence said...

Thanks Lorelei!

I sometimes find myself living vicariously through Willow - trying to see the world as she sees it. I'm sure you know what I mean. Our daughters are both at that age where the world holds wondrous surprises around every turn, and the firsts just pile up on top of each other.

It's funny how parenthood can be both ordinary and extraordinary at the same time.