I get to see her tomorrow, I think. It makes me think about a trip I took once to Central Asia. I was on a bus, and there were these younger teenage girls, who, giggling, rushed off at a stop after grabbing my butt. I was flattered; that even I would draw such attention. But the more I thought about it the more I realized that I could have been Bob, Marco, Anton, Jack, or anyone. 'Twas not I that bore the attraction, but the idea of something I might have been. They knew me not; no hopes, fears, dreams, toils, nothing; nothing to them but an idea.
Things can never work out sometimes, 'tis dreams, dreams, and nothing more. Wilcox would say, "I could no more stop dreaming than I could make them all come true." (1)
I'm beginning to think that these silly dreams are okay. Read Lewis today:
As to the business about being 'rooted' or 'at home everywhere', I wonder are they really the opposite, or are they the same thing. I mean, don't you enjoy the Alps more precisely because you began by first learning to love in an intimate and homely way our own hills and woods? While the mere globe-trotter, starting not from a home feeling but from guide books and aesthetic chatter, feels equally at home everywhere only in the sense that he is really at home nowhere?... In other words doesn't one get to the universal (either in people or in inanimate nature) thro' the individual - not by going off into a mere generalised mash. (2)
And I think it was one of Tolkien's characters who said we should love the things we are fitted to love. Without the common, could we even love the beyond?
I'll see her tomorrow, and I'll enjoy it for whatever it's worth; and I'll walk on.
- David Wilcox, How Did You Find Me Here; track 11, The Kid
- C.S. Lewis, Yours, Jack: Spiritual Direction from C.S. Lewis; Letter to Arthur Greeves, 1 July 1930, p. 17