The Albatross

Often, to amuse themselves, the men of a crew
Catch albatrosses, those vast sea birds
That indolently follow a ship
As it glides over the deep, briny sea.

Scarcely have they placed them on the deck
Than these kings of the sky, clumsy, ashamed,
Pathetically let their great white wings
Drag beside them like oars.

That winged voyager, how weak and gauche he is,
So beautiful before, now comic and ugly!
One man worries his beak with a stubby clay pipe;
Another limps, mimics the cripple who once flew!

The poet resembles this prince of cloud and sky
Who frequents the tempest and laughs at the bowman;
When exiled on the earth, the butt of hoots and jeers,
His giant wings prevent him from walking.

— Charles Baudelaire

Two of a kind

I do not write very often. I have been advised of Bernard Shaw’s “Write-5-pages-a-day-no-matter-what” rule, have tried it and not succeeded. Regular readers of my (other) blog would notice that the promise of one-post per day was not kept either. I need inspiration to write. I need an idea to bubble up from the abyss of consciousness, stir my soul and strum my neural network till I am driven by inspiration and energy to put it down on paper – or – type it out on the screen.

I am inspired, today. Why?

Imagine growing up knowing there is something fundamentally weird about the way you think. Imagine being able to see the unfairness of the world and the hypocrisy of it. Imagine never buying into the world, really. Imagine learning to shut up and be normal. Imagine learning not to let your teachers know you are smarter than them. Imagine learning that your astute observations about life, education, religion, learning, patriotism, morality might be really really politically incorrect. Imagine learning to shift, change, adjust, accommodate. Imagine lowering your standards for the kind of person you are, can be and want to be with. Imagine being abnormal, idealistic, impracticable, unconventional, eccentric, over-analytical, dreamer, stupid….. and hiding that. Imagine being not-understood and imagine not imagining any other way things could exist.
Now, Imagine discovering that there are two of you.

Richard Bach says – Your true family is seldom the one you are born in