I had a very reflective day, and wrote a lot. Although its written more or less temporally, I tried to “clump” things together under headings to make skimming and understanding it easier.

CURIOSITY

I awoke early this morning (at 5 am) to catch a ride from dad to the airport. The air was clear and fresh and cool with just a touch of morning dew, the skies clear blue with just a hint of morning fog and a big orange (almost perfectly circular and easily stare-straight-at-it) sun low on the horizon.

In this beautiful natural state, mind clear of all practical matters, I was free to embrace my inner self, and to remember my childlike curiosity. I asked of my father, “how did the aborigines fashion their clothing?” because, to my knowledge, Australia is not known for its vast cotton fields. Later, I asked of my father, “why in the early morning can you look directly at the sun without it hurting your eyes” and “what causes the sun’s color in the morning”? Still, I do not know.

What could we learn from children, before we shackle them with “social norms”? Continued…

It’s weird when I stumble upon an artifact which reminds me of a previous life. For instance, the watch I wear every day is a relic of the past, a gift from someone long out of my life. It’s not that it has any sentimental value remaining; it’s merely a very nice watch. When I think about it’s origin, I don’t get sad, or miss the past or the individual who gave me it, it just causes some uneasiness about my “past lives” so to speak. I find it strange thinking back to different places, circles of friends, relationships, and motivations that I thought would last a lifetime. I no longer see the past from my own eyes, but rather as if I’m watching a movie. While this would be fine on it’s own, the ghosts of overwhelming emotion I once had in each of these situations seems to contradict the faint movie-like reminiscence of logic, and this disparity puts me ill at ease. And all this at only 21 years of age. I can only imagine what it must be like for my venerable elders, those white haired (or bald) seniors who seem to have experienced everything, and then a little more. This fills me both with apprehension and excitement.