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6 November 2003 (Thursday): if i never loved i never would have cried

Most days it seems like my heart is made of plastic: a sturdy material, manufactured, the child of chemicals poured out of vast industrial silos. It is useful. It molds neatly against beauty and stores its shape; it bears minor scuffs with the steadfast cheeriness of logic. The cabinet handle, the casing of the answering machine, and my heart -- all everyday objects, all taken for granted. A warranty card came with it but we've misplaced the box, not that we'll ever need it again. Maybe it's in the attic.

But sometimes...sometimes the plastic turns into something different. A dandelion. A nectarine. And the blue sky not BLUE.SKY but my god how the wind is blowing across this endlessness that frames our little world, can you feel that, and suddenly I am proud of tall buildings and community gardens and suddenly I am amazed to be of the same species as the beautiful woman taking my endorsed checks at the bank saying will there be anything else for you today and suddenly I am so very, very scared of losing Soren, to accident or aging or anything else. Right then my heart is not plastic but something porous, fragile, alive and therefore capable of dying. As I walk I feel as though I'm cupping it in my hands, not sure if I'm protecting it or offering it. Times like these I learn the most.

posted by enjelani @ 10:00 PM PST

Replies: 5 comments

On the campus where I work, the foyer of one the buildings has a theme display about asteroids striking Earth. Here under glass you find samples of asteroidal matter, a photograph of a crater, a map of 150 known impact sites throughout the world. Up on the wall and dominating the room is an artist's rendition of a rock entering Earth's blue atmosphere with a splash, over what appears to be South America. "Life near impact would be instantly wiped out from the effects of high temperature and pressure," the caption explains. "Injection of huge masses of dust and gases into the atmosphere would effectively block out sunlight for long periods of time to the point that most life could not be sustained." There is 1 in 10,000 chance of a significant asteroidal event on Earth sometime in the next 100 years. "Sometime in the next 100 years" may mean tomorrow, or even today. Before I finish writing this post. Before you finish reading it.

I wonder what goes through the minds of people who walk past this display 5 days a week on the way to their desks. Nothing, probably; we would all go mad if we weren't hard-wired to tune out concerns over grave intergalactic matters. But when I saw the exhibit for the first time, it gave me a start. I wanted to walk back across the campus, appreciate the clouds and the rain. I wanted to finish the project I'd began that morning, to read the book I'd ordered the week before and not yet cracked open. More than that, I wanted to run to the nearest phone and tell people I love how much they mean to me. But I didn't.

posted by beefeater @ 09 11 2003 12:43 AM PST

why is it that people, once motivated, seem to do something for a short period of time before wandering off to do something else?
sometimes i wish i would pay attention to every little detail, do something about everything that motivates me, make a difference.
but it never happens.
i've heard it's better to have never loved than to have loved and lost. your tupperware heart never knows what it's like to sit in the hot oven...

posted by liz @ 09 11 2003 08:33 PM PST

You know, I keep wanting to post a thoughtful reply to this one.

But then I never do... :-P

posted by bill @ 16 11 2003 10:11 AM PST

it's good for the plastic heart to turn into different things.

posted by cezanne @ 18 11 2003 12:28 PM PST

You know what it is - this post cuts a little too close to home in several ways. What else is there to say except that we're all a bunch of very silly, sappy creatures. And many are very embarrassed about that fact.

Shoots, you even got the great and glorious, hyper-rationalist beefeater to wear his heart on his sleeve for a moment, until of course, he quickly put it away.

posted by bill @ 19 11 2003 09:25 PM PST