I was reading tonight, and something I read affected me. The principal character in a book I was reading learned of the death of a friend.
“I said in Hebrew the verse from the Book of Job, recited when one learns of a death. ‘The Lord has given, and the Lord has taken away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.’ And I wept.” *
And I wept.
This is not normally something I would tell many people.
This is one of those things it would be easier to tell if I were truly immersed in the anonymity of the Internet. It is not the first time that I realize I have a persona on the internet that a fair number of people have come to know. As in the physical world, where more than my fingers are needed to travel the gravel alley to the store, where my feet carry me to the post office and my car travels over asphalt and concrete to convey me to more-distant destinations, IRL(in real life), if you will, not everyone likes or approves of me. I have angered some people, been liked by some, been an object of curiosity and disdain, or sometimes even gone unnoticed. I hope admired by at least a few. But even here, as there, I am “recognized,” after a fashion by more than a few. It would be easier to reveal some things about me, if I were not so recognizable.
Sometimes I wish I could talk about something that would shine a different light on me, something that would reveal a shadowed nuance of myself. Yet, I shun light and revelation, fearful of fulfilling the truism that “Familiarity breeds contempt,” and not wanting to feel that contempt.
Some things I would reveal are things about myself I would like to change, but the way is unclear, and change has been put aside for a time the path is clearer. Some things I would not change, but I’ve no interest in revealing them to people who would never want to, never mind possess the capability to, understand. And because I cannot be who I am not, because I cannot seem to establish a false persona, even on the internet, I feel those who “know” me here, know me. And while they may not know the tempo of my steps or the timbre of my voice, they hold a perception of me, or more accurately of my character, that they, for want of a better word, recognize. And such is the constancy of that character, that no matter where I go, in the physical world or the ethereal, I cannot long continue to feel anonymous.
I cannot hide who I am, nor from who I am.
*from "The Gift of Asher Lev," by Chaim Potok
Copy & paste to friend: (Click inside box; Ctrl + C to copy; Ctrl + V to paste)
|
|
read more blogs!
|