I think it is the longing for Heaven that may cause one to desire the "not knowing." At least, I think it is that way for me. I want that question mark of the "what if?" It is in that "what if" that I swear I can catch elusive glimpses of the ethereal. Every time I peek behind the curtain, I am disappointed. (Admittedly, this is where I live the majority of the time.) Sure, one does not want to walk around blindly, living in an altered perception of reality, but I think there is something wonderful about having the ability to delight in the lovely shadows of my imagination's playground instead of living in the constant awareness of the crude mechanics of the world. I love the illusion that ballet is absolutely effortless and it's dancers, light as feathers. I love the Peter Pan ride at Disney World where I can watch my feet hover over tiny towns and I can imagine I'm flying. Should I choose to look up, I immediately see the machinery and the cogs that make the ride function, but why one earth would I want to do that?
I love how nature is able to hold so much of that unknowable wonder (despite the cruel realities that come with it). Thank you for constantly reminding me to stop, go outside, and find that beauty and wonder that is so readily available, and free of cost!
I smiled at your posting. It seems like you are reading my bookshelf. I recently finished H is for Hawk, which some have compared to A Tinker at Pilgrim Creek. And this morning, out on my deck, I read the chapter in the Once and Future King where Arthur, or The Wart, learns what it is like to swim like a fish.
I think it is the longing for Heaven that may cause one to desire the "not knowing." At least, I think it is that way for me. I want that question mark of the "what if?" It is in that "what if" that I swear I can catch elusive glimpses of the ethereal. Every time I peek behind the curtain, I am disappointed. (Admittedly, this is where I live the majority of the time.) Sure, one does not want to walk around blindly, living in an altered perception of reality, but I think there is something wonderful about having the ability to delight in the lovely shadows of my imagination's playground instead of living in the constant awareness of the crude mechanics of the world. I love the illusion that ballet is absolutely effortless and it's dancers, light as feathers. I love the Peter Pan ride at Disney World where I can watch my feet hover over tiny towns and I can imagine I'm flying. Should I choose to look up, I immediately see the machinery and the cogs that make the ride function, but why one earth would I want to do that?
I love how nature is able to hold so much of that unknowable wonder (despite the cruel realities that come with it). Thank you for constantly reminding me to stop, go outside, and find that beauty and wonder that is so readily available, and free of cost!
Love this, Becca!
I smiled at your posting. It seems like you are reading my bookshelf. I recently finished H is for Hawk, which some have compared to A Tinker at Pilgrim Creek. And this morning, out on my deck, I read the chapter in the Once and Future King where Arthur, or The Wart, learns what it is like to swim like a fish.
I just read the Once and Future King this summer, too! So funny! H Is For Hawk is also on my list.
Oops, I meant a Pilgrim at Tinker Creek in my post. Realized that later. I think you probably know that T.H. White is a big part of H is for Hawk.
I didn't! Now I want to read it even more.