Wednesday, July 28, 2010

GREEN GLASS

I haven't been feeling well, so maybe the tendrils of that sluggish ague that lands when something's a little off is what led me here. But here I am. I sit in the kitchen, stirring my lentil soup, and inspect my surroundings with an introspective uncertainty.

This is my life right now, I think. Not before now. Right now. All that's here is new.

The print above the cupboard was inspired by a someone only two years my friend. The birdcages nearby I brought home a few months ago. The prints to the left are recently framed. And the shelf they're sitting on, well, we hung that last week. I look around noticing that the walls of my little dwelling reflect the walls of my little mind. I like to do away with the old and replace it with the now.

I'm not interested in old pictures of me. I see them as lies. That's not who I am now. I don't even know who that was then. Now is honest. The past just isn't true anymore.

It seems that I have a puny respect for my history. I don't venerate it the way some do. I decorate my days with little philosophies, and one of them is that each stage of life is one to be overcome. Conquer high school and don't bother looking back. Plow through college, forging yourself into something better, and be done with it. Move away from a place and never visit. Unintentionally lose touch with the friends you left behind; they are the past. Without aiming to be, I'm forward-thinking and only interested in what's next. Who am I working on becoming? Each phase is a precursor to the next and so much less noteworthy than where I am right now.

But here in my kitchen where everything is new, I still display my collection of green glass. It started with a bulbous green vase from my brother-in-law and sprouted, bloomed, grew into enough pieces to scatter throughout the house. My accumulation is varied shades of green--translucent and luminous all--a candle stick, vases, goblets, carafes, bottles, whatever I come across in a verdant hue that strikes me. I love my glass. I love collecting it and mixing the new pieces with the ones I already have. But as time passes, the pieces become old. They aren't a part of Now anymore. They're shards of Then.

Each piece didn't come with meaning, but somehow each earned it. Not a meaning I can give words to. Just meaning in that they are still here. They're the bits of before that I don't mind displaying, that I don't tire of or use as a marker for what needs improvement. I suppose they might signify the few memories that I don't shun and endeavor to overcome.

I'm here in the kitchen, looking at so much new, sprinkled with just a bit of old and find a curious solace in considering that it's not all of the past I disdain, just some--just most. It must be that in bumbling through living we amass our own bits of green glass, and we don't mind keeping them around; they do a good job of accenting what's new.

6 comments:

Hen Pecks said...

Who are you working to become? Your father.

Megan and Keli'i said...

You can tell that this was one of your writings that just flowed right on out of you. Great piece, Megan.

Isn't like that saying, "To move forward, we have to acknowledge our past..." or "to know where we're going, we have to know where we've been." We don't have to like our past; we just have to learn from it, move forward, and hopefully, become better people with better minds and better thoughts from all of these experiences.

Immensely enjoyed this.

rabidrunner said...

Beautifully said. It appears as though your glass collection is a metaphor for your evolution, yes? I wonder what my green glass collection is? Hmmmm.

As a side note, I'm a bit jealous of all the Megans going to school together and writing stuff together.

Jessica said...

Rabid, maybe we could change our names to Megan and form some sort of gang?

Sparkler Megan, I love the way you say things. I really do. It makes me happy.

Winder said...

Have I ever told you that I love your written word? No? Well, Miss Sparks I love your written word.

Kelsey Carreon said...

I agree. The only reason I keep in touch with anyone in High School is because I was not mean enough to ignore their friend requests on FB. I have not been back to Utah since I moved to Reno and have no desire. I only go back to Virginia to see my family. I do have to say though here in Reno where I feel rooted I might come back, but I say that in the present and who knows how I will feel in the future when I eventually leave.

BTW if you are looking for any new green glass, the flea market at the Drive-In movie theatre on Saturday mornings in Spark, is said to be a treasure trove on occasion (and a farmers market to boot).