Inculcate

now i've finally come to terms with the fact that up life isn't all about getting good grades that 'determine my work'. alyssa told me about a week ago how she'll be practicing to have a way with people next year. there are no concrete plans yet but her determination pulled me out of my reverie and dragged me back to the road of conformation. always felt like i do things that i know would make the best out of who i presently am. the idea of the future is too vast and complicated so i settle for what i have/am right now. glued in my mind is the truth that we will all change so why bother the anticipation-- it'll come whether you like it or not. sometimes overanalyzing of what's going to happen next tails off the intensity of the present. how come we believe that we already have something yet we continue to search for for everything?
yes, yesterday i met a lady who showed me the panoramic view of it all. her voice reverberated with the smell of success, with advocacies in the academic world, with the beauty of humanities, with maturity, with learning and life.

why don't the university integrate the disciplines that give meaning to life? without art and literature, the humanities, the students become slaves of the industrial world. instilled in their minds is the preconceived viewpoint that they will have to work so the net worth becomes the name of the game. let them be their own boss. let them see the world with eyes swimming in the history of the world, inside the words of homer, along the frescoes of Michelangelo and Boticelli. i've always regretted that when i was young i never had the passion to read. now, i have a coach for that. see, at this age, i need someone to mentor me and keep my head glued in the essentials of life. so i highly encourage young people to read. i've never had the "time" to do that.


How far is true
enough?
How far into the
earth
can vision go and
still be
love? Isn’t the
honesty
of things where they
resist,
where only the wind
can bend them
back, the real weather,
not our
desire hissing Tell me
your parts
that I may understand
your body,
your story. Which is why
we have
characters and the knife
of a plot
to wade through this
current. Now
it’s blossoms
back to back
through the orchard.
A surf
of tenderness. There is
no deep
enough. For what we want
to take
inside of us, whole orchard,
color,
name, scent, symbol, raw
pale
blossoms, wet black
arms there is
no deep enough.

Jorie Graham, excerpt from The Age of Reason