I have this theory, and really it’s more like a signed will and testament.
It’s that little beauts of knowledge have been dangling themselves in front of your eyes for centuries waiting for the exact moment when you reached full maturity and intellectual capacity to expose themselves to you again… to give you one last shot at the pudding.
Clearly, they’ve been there all along. They fought for your attention like a little infatuated sixteen-year-old girl. They tried to warn you of all the shit life could throw your way, but you insisted on finding it all out on your own.
In other words, you have been too egocentric, too closed minded, or too oblivious to acknowledge their significance. And now, when you look back, you realize all of those annoying clichés have stemmed from something real.
All of those short sentences that make you roll your eyes in irritation actually do mean something.
This is a little sappy (something I’ve apparently grown accustomed to), but it’s the exact event in which this theory arose:
Two summers ago, my grandmother (aka the human equivalence to Jesus), was in the hospital after a heart attack. This heart attack occurred months after a breast cancer diagnosis, and we (the entire family including the human form of Jesus herself) all thought it was the end for Corrine.
I spent a couple nights at the hospital with her, and tried to really soak in her holy ambiance for all the time I had left. Now, I realize that was more selfish than helpful… but I think Corrine liked me being around because I make a great Skip-Bo partner – in the sense that I’m easily beaten.
But that’s beside the point.
The point is, Corrine and I were listening to some of her favorite tunes when Doris Day’s “Que Sera Sera” came on. I found myself really focusing on the lyrics, because I wanted to connect with who my grandmother was as a younger girl. I wanted to appreciate the stuff she’s appreciated in her life. I wanted to cling on to everything about her and her past and who she was before I existed in this world.
When the song ended, I said, “That’s really beautiful. I’ve never heard that.”
And that’s when Corrine really took on the crown of thorns.
“You’ve heard it, Cap! You just never listened.”
And the theory was developed.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve read or heard something that I’ve seen a thousand times, but suddenly it takes on new meaning. I’ve always heard life was cyclic. That there was some kind of serendipity in how things play out. And, if I’m being honest, the way things seem to grow in meaning and substance over time and experience is one of the more vital signs of that sense of connectivity in the world.
I like to think that #lyfe, no matter how its spent, contains surprises and new learning, but now I feel like I’m in a race to find it all out.
I NEED ALL THE CLICHES ANSWERED. ALL OF THEM.
There’s a large part of me that fears some of the knowledge I’ve discovered while revisiting literature or life situations may have never been uncovered if I hadn’t needed to hear it.
But how do I force myself to grasp on to the significance in the moment?
More importantly… Can you even train yourself to do that?
I don’t know, but I will tell you what I’ve figured out so far. The ones that were right from day one. The good ones. The steady ones. The ones Little Wayne would refer to as his bottom bitch… if he read into clichés like I do.
So, without further ado… the five things you thought no one ever told you:
1. Goodbyes really do lead to new hellos.
2. Its never too late to go home.
3. Time spent learning (anything) is never time wasted.
4. There really is a lot of commotion in silence.
5. Life really does start at the end of your comfort zone.
Let those soak in.