Germans have the best words ever

vergangenheitsbewältigung: the process of dealing with the past


need I write more? Bloody gorgeous.


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disco bingo vampires

Friend had fun with photoshop after a tipsy evening playing disco bingo. Thinking on it, not convinced I'd mind being made a vampire. Except for the end of lying in sunbeams. That would suck.

Man, my eyes really look green in that photo.

puddled ski tracks

I spent this morning attempting to cross-country ski on trails which were discovered to be too swamped with water to be satisfying or fun for that endeavour. Am thinking that experience might be an apt allegory for the disappointment felt this evening with respect to a friend's choices, recently revealed. Though am not sure will be able to express such.

How to make this thought coherent ... Cross-country skiing is not a brash affair, a mostly solitary pursuit even when done en masse as attempted this morning, and so not overly melodramatic. It is however vigorous and demanding, while also being pleasantly sensuous and calming, engaging all senses, engendering clarity. It encourages the body and mind to be at their most possible perfect, individual intimacy.

But today, despite postings on the NCC website, the trails were under water. People expecting a good ski in the mild morning found themselves landing in treacherous deep puddles where wool hats, mitts, whole bodies were soaked. No one escaped this.

There was a certain charm in the loud comedy so ensuing.

But it is not this potential for laughter nor mere disappointment of expectations foiled that makes this allegorical. What is it that make the two conflate in my mind????? grrr.

Maybe it is that there is still much to be gained in both circumstances; both the rain puddles on ski trails and the cause of disappointment allow for potentially fabulous unexpected experiences.

But somehow both seem a lie, a denial of robust self; for the ski trails were not ready for skiing at all, nor did the forest seem to smell as it does in wintertime. The sound of people crashing about laughing, while fun, did not resonate as does the attuning to the sounds of one's breath, muscles, blood, the snow and raucous quiet of a winter forest found when skiing there.

And he? well, I fear he is lying to himself. Know he is. I am disappointed he chooses to do so. Not inasmuch as it really affects me, for I can easily opt out of seeing the day as intended for skiing and instead choose to hike gleefully, noisily, in puddles. Joyfully do so knowing the grand epiphanies and deep connections with myself, the world, will be found another day.

Yet for this evening I remain disappointed in — ache over — his choice for himself for I think he reveals a lack of knowledge of such possibilities. He is missing the gloriousness that could come of a bit more snow, or less rain. Wonder why he will not just declare it a great hiking day. Wonder if he is even able to tell the temperature, at all, or if this delusion, disconnect is too profound.



ah well.