Given my nature, could I take a break from blogging, break for once what's become the weekly ritual of a Sunday night post written for Monday morning reading, after an insane weekend of teaching a day-long seminar and writing coverage for four scripts, the volume of the words so overwhelming that the notion of adding even one -- more -- word -- to the mountain of verbiage already traversed felt beyond absurd and way beyond exhausting?
Maybe I could, as a condition of accepting friend Mark’s invitation to celebrate his birthday with a group of friends going for a full moon hike in the actual made-of-earth mountains up by the county line and losing my mind, at least cleansing it and hanging it out to dry for awhile, maybe this was possible, given that the group of mostly newfound friends was so welcoming and convivial, the night so warm, the scenery so gorgeously biblical on our long, more accurately timeless hike up a winding road in the nearly-clear-as-day moonlight, especially as the group members fell away and I was left with one just-met companion--
--Our conversation encompassed how strange it was that Hafiz and Rumi could be the top bestselling poets in America at a time when America is busily blowing up the present-day countrymen of Hafiz and Rumi (sense of a river running beneath the surface of so-called reality, its clear waters revealing deeper truths to drink from as we trudge through the mundane, often lethal muck of mere truthiness), encompassed the issue of happiness versus responsibility (e.g. the temptation to get happily lost in the nighttime mountain wilderness v. the possible presence of mountain lions and the fact that the two of us had abandoned everyone else we'd come here to be with), encompassed the exploration of comparative personal histories with so many odd convergences (rivulets seeping back into that mysterious, invisible but tantalizingly nearby river, perhaps just underneath) that we both began to wonder how it might be that our paths had crossed before, which was when my companion paused in our stumbling, laughing descent to ask, "Are you on-line?"
--And facing moon, mountain, valley, wind I realized how brilliant and right a choice it was to not be blogging tonight, and simultaneously got that I was my blog, on the road, embodying an essential weirdosity of this modern age, where you're on-line even while you're off-line, though wasn't it actually easier to get to know a person without all of that (The Information) surging into the interstices of the present moment -- where happiness, i.e. the freedom to have or not have responsibility, dwells? It was then I felt the full force of blissful liberation from being compelled to write about any of this, an affirmation of the break from blogging and words, words – the being in it there and then so much more important than the reporting of what it was like, in the form of a blog post, although given my nature --
Sounds like you had a very relaxing hike, Billy. Don't burn-out, keep blogging. You've got a lot to say and if you don't get it out you just might explode.
Back when I lived in Boise, Idaho, my parents and I walked "Craters of the Moon National Park" by moonlight. After the 200 mile ride east, we arrived late. We explored the undergound caves untill it got to dark, then walked the hardened lava landscape back to our cars under a full moon. It was kina surreal. "Craters of the Moon" was an old lava flow that dried up about 2000 years ago and and caused a series of underground caves. Real cool stuff. If you're into hiking the Boise area is GREAT place to visit.
Keep living life and telling the rest of us about it -- Indiana Mernit! You're quite the adventurer.
- E.C. Henry from Bonney Lake, WA
Posted by: E.C. Henry | November 13, 2006 at 04:42 AM
America hates ideas not people. We aren't blowing up people over there. We're assaulting the idea of terrorism. Those aren't body parts, they are the exclamation points of our statement.
I fear you're taking this whole 'war' thing too literally.
Posted by: JJ | November 13, 2006 at 11:19 AM
Even before there was written language, humans have been compelled to share their experiences with each other. That's why they painted on the caves in Lascaux.
Posted by: Miriam Paschal | November 13, 2006 at 04:42 PM
Beautifully written. Loved it.
-MM
Posted by: Mystery Man | November 13, 2006 at 05:00 PM
I was on vacation too, and during one excursion was frantic for a camera, shouting "I can't just experience it, I have to also RECORD it!"
It's a sickness...but I have a kid, that's my excuse.
Posted by: chris soth | November 13, 2006 at 11:27 PM
EC: Craters of the Moon sounds way cool...
JJ: You're absolutely right. We should be spending more time and attention talking of more important things, such as John Kerry's stand-up comedy career.
Miriam: Good point. That was around the time clubbing people on the head to communicate became a little passe, right?
Thanks, MM; if you loved this, you would have gone nuts for that moon...
Chris: A kid is a great excuse!
Posted by: mernitman | November 14, 2006 at 01:32 PM
The negative hand.
Unk
Posted by: Unk | November 14, 2006 at 11:43 PM
Billy, the words. You can't help it. It's in your nature. IT'S WHAT YOU DO.
Posted by: binnie | November 15, 2006 at 06:28 PM
Well that was a nice break I'm sure. You can come back now.
Posted by: Janet | November 15, 2006 at 10:04 PM
Unk... you've stumped me (i.e. what?)
Binnie: ...which was, um, like, the POINT?
Janet: And here I be.
Posted by: mernitman | November 15, 2006 at 11:07 PM