Now that my time is parsed, sectioned, subdivided, and carefully annotated to account for every one of my multiple (and seemingly endless) obligations–I have to confront the obvious, which I love to pretend doesn’t apply to me: I’m human.
If I can reconcile myself with what might seem like an obvious proposition, then, what does being human require of me? What are my human obligations, rights and responsibilities?
And importantly, why do I shy away from being human?
Also, if I think I’m not human. What Do I think I am?
1) Requirements (inherited in silence, sometimes found in science or faith): Humor, Love, Passion, a dose of patience, a notion of hope, a heaping ladle of curiosity, a kind center, a practical turn, a Glass (neither full nor empty- realism tempered with thoughtful optimism).
2) Rights/Responsibilities: ecstatic moments; a longing for intimacy-sometimes beautifully fulfilled by forest, friends or lovers; the quiet solitude of pain; the quiet peace of reflection; knowing moments of perfect sun or rain. Long dimness in fogs-bodily, intellectual, heart generated, or atmospheric.
3) The shying away–I shy away because the weight and wonder are troubling to encompass.
4) What do I think I am? I do not know, but I enjoy it.
Human–a term I sometimes equate with great failure, and yet a term that trembles with generous potential.
I don’t feel sufficient for my humanity.
As another human helped me see: So it goes.
Final question: is this a poem?