It changes things, that impetus I didn’t used to have. It keeps me awake on car rides, looking out the window – no longer at the passing palm trees, but up, toward other worlds. It drives me in a way I had hoped for but hadn’t imagined. Is this what inspiration is, what dreams are? Being something other than swept up in the tide. There is a sense in it though, of bowing to the wind. Not giving myself up, but becoming myself by finding a passionate focus for my efforts.
It feels good to be a directed cannon rather than a loose one, and directed by my own interests. But it’s also disconcerting. I’m not used to the swelling of pride, the distraction of desire, the glimmers of hope, the sheer drive toward progress. I often feel uncertain what to do with the moving ground beneath my feet. It used to be clear where I was going (right where I had been), but now I’m moving and the world’s moving and it’s all coming together but I can’t see where. It’s delightful, if a bit scary.
I used to tell myself that what didn’t satisfy in the dark and silent moments wouldn’t satisfy in the light; that I’d be happier with a life where I wasn’t inclined to socialize merely to avoid looking at it. What I didn’t expect as a consequence was that, when what I’m satisfied with is itself not particularly social, this leads readily toward spending a lot less time socializing. I’m satisfied in the dark, not so much with the products of social interaction (though those are appreciable and nifty) as with the products of silence.
In silence, I make rapid progress and discover many things I had been unaware of. Socialization suits this as well, but only in small and occasional doses. There can only be efficient interchange of new ideas once new ideas have been encountered or generated, which takes time. Time spent in the quiet ways, buried in pages and charts and books, or moving through the patterns of an art. So if I’m a little hard to talk into more than a monthly brunch, you know why. I’ve become an introvert (or perhaps accepted the datavert I’ve always been). The stars are waiting, and the books are calling. I’ve got to go.
