Sophmoric Sophistry

"Parting is such sweet sorrow... but meeting you is better than not having met you at all." That line was on an 8th grade girl's folder.

Funny thing, these middle schoolers are. They're children on the verge of becoming young adults. Having said that, they're mostly in limbo. They're learning the norms and etiquette of being an adult, but they're still clinging to, and basing life on, their childhood.

You see, many adults end up dismissing the social behavior of middle schoolers. They feel it is beneath them. Not worthy of adult attention. Much the same way, adults tend to overlook middle schooler feelings and emotions. I once shared a poem written by an 8th grade girl with some friends. The only thing those adults could do was point out how naive the author was. But is it naivete or just a fresh outlook on a future life?

I think one of the wonderful things about my profession is that I get to deal with people who are not yet jaded in society. They haven't been stifled by society's rules and roles. They're still at that stage in life where they wonder just why do they have to wear shoes to a fancy restaurant.

So when you come down from the ivory tower, you can actually learn a lot from a kid. Kids live life with passion. They don't realize that they're doing it, but they are. And that's one thing adults always bemoan. They always wish they had more passion in their lives.

You see, when kids are happy, they're not afraid to show it. They will smile from ear to ear. They will laugh out loud. They will dance and sing. Hoot and holler. All those things.

When they are angry, they let everyone know. They don't hide it. They will scream. They will scowl and clench their teeth. Their hands would be balled up in fists. And sometimes they cry.

When they're sad, they cry. They hug each other for support. They will actually tell you that they are feeling sad.

And when they're in love, that's an incredible thing to watch too. They act awkwardly embarrassed in front of the object of their affections. They will give their favs gifts. They do nice things for each other. And sometimes, they will do those things in front of their friends, risking ridicule.

How many of us adults can say that we live life as passionately as a middle schooler?

The only hearty laugh I recently produced was the result of a girl tickling my ribs. And the only time I heard her laugh as hard was when I tried to smell her feet... and gave her the "Portagee Torture". How sad is my life that I don't laugh like that more often?

Have I been so angry I had to scream? No. OK, wait. I've been frustrated to the point where I did have to scream.

I've also been sad enough that I, a grown man, got teary eyed. But could I do that in front of others? Could I grab my friends and hold them tight and share their pain? Stupid adult male role. Doesn't allow one to be too emotional.

And how about love? Oh boy that's a doozy. Let's just say that I've spoken and acted in ways which adults would consider weird... by their own constricted standards.

I haven't even told you the secret to all this. Just what is it that allows these middle schoolers to live so passionately? Memory. Or lack of it.

They don't think of the future in terms of years. They think of the future in terms of days. They don't think of the past in years either, but in days too. So any consequence, such as ridicule, only lasts a short time. Any hurt that they feel, is but a passing irritant. It's like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day. Once he realized there was no future, he lived each day like it was the last day of his life.

The kids do that too. Though not on purpose.

Once again, I've probably gone way off the point. But hey, I felt like writing, so dammit, I'll write. It's my prerogative, and I'm gonna forget all the snide remarks come tomorrow. Heh.

BTW, underneath that bit of philosophy on the folder, the girl wrote, "I poop rainbows."

Jane, Get Me Off This Crazy Thing!

I haven't cried. Indian Girl has moved away and I haven't cried. She cried. Machu Pichu cried. I still haven't cried. Weird. And I don't know why.

I've been feeling drained this last week. Sure as shit, life has been giving me the roller coaster. MP said a good cry would do wonders, but what can you do if you can't cry? I guess normally that is when you would turn to a good friend. Ironically, the good friend leaving is causing some depression that would require a good friend. Damn catch 22.

Indian Girl was a major catalyst in my life. I guess the fact that she knew she would only be here for 3 months made her take full advantage of every minute. To an outsider, it would have looked like she was burning the candle at both ends. However, I think she just compressed into 3 months what some people take 3 years to experience.

Adventuring, exploring, beaches, swimming, snorkeling, hiking, dining, making friends, meeting people, volunteering, playing, doggies, dancing, drinking, partying, relaxing, walking, jogging, romancing, and having sex. That's the kind of stuff IG did. But she didn't do it all herself. She took MP and me along for the ride. And I think I got to experience more in three months than I did in three years.



So today I've been depressed. The sad thing for me is that I'm not the type to go out and share my problems with anyone. Normally IG and MP would pick up that I'm not in a right state of mind, and would offer to talk, cheer me up, or just give me a hug. Stupid catch 22 though. IG isn't here, and if I see MP, it would just be a load that she doesn't need. I think I should have just screamed out, "FUCK!," in my helmet today.

Yeah, I rode my motorcycle today. I think I just wanted some time by myself. Can't get more by myself than in a helmet going 60+ mph. Then I did something I never did before. When I got to the canyon lookout, I got a soda, sat under a tree, and listened to Hallelujah on my mp3 player. Did I feel better? I really don't know. It did make me want to write though. So now I'm writing.

This morning I watched City of Angels again. It's about an angel who becomes human to experience everything human, including love. Then his love dies shortly after they get together. The angel was wracked with depression until another angel asked that if he knew this would happen, would he have become human. He then realizes that even though he was hurting now, what he experienced was worth the world to him, and he was able to begin healing.



So even though it feels like I have a big, empty hole in my heart, that's just an illusion. It's a false pain that will pass. Because the truth is that meeting IG has stuffed my heart with so many good things, my heart is now bigger. And the empty feeling is not really emptiness. It's just my heart waiting to accept more.

And pass me the low-sodium shoyu.