look out of your window at the storm

i just took a few minutes break from school work, namely writing up the legislative history of the wild and scenic rivers act of 1968--i walked upstairs, put my dishes in the dishwasher, and caught a glimpse of 50 first dates. my housemate commented that it was cheesy, by which i guess he means unrealistic and poorly written. yet it got me to wondering whether anyone's life realistically would ever be well-written. i hope my life isn't cheesy, i even hope that it's not cliche, but i guess i just don't know.

is anyone's life a good movie? i'm tempted to say no. and it's probably not how anyone should judge the quality of one's life anyway. i find my life realistic at the very least, and the relationships i have with people seem pretty realistic. i'm not sure how good the script or the acting is, but the message seems clear--try to be good, try to enjoy life, try to be a caring and responsible person, and be willing to work with things when they aren't quite right.

when i was growing up, my mom would often say to me (the slightly over-stressed, type-a self-starter i was): (god) grant me the serenity to accept the things i cannot change; the courage to change the things i can; and the wisdom to know the difference. she said this because i had a much larger category of things that i could change than was realistic at the time (but i'll never fault myself for this). my current conundrum (or little worry that keeps cropping up every once in a while) is that i don't know whether i want to become so realistic that i have that kind of wisdom, or whether i want to stay as idealistic as possible, and keep trying to do as much as i can, however i can, even at some expense to myself.

and i'm still sitting here, still waiting for the storm that's been threatening since late this afternoon. i'm still wishing i had more hours in my day, more flexibility in my schedule to enjoy beautiful days, and more life-richness generally. life-richness? i guess life mostly comes down to relationships, experiences, and cares. adding meaning and richness to these parts of life--there's something there. it's not just having friends, but having close and meaningful friends. it's not just going swimming (once or regularly), but making swimming meaningful--sharing it with others, or making it meaningful for oneself, or caring about some other aspect. it's not just about writing a paper on wild and scenic rivers, but coming to some greater understanding of why rivers, and their management, are important in my life, why it is that the rivers that have shaped my history and my family's history are treated the way they are, are understood the way they are, are experienced and lived the way they are.



some of my favorite pictures show my grandfather sitting by the white river, a river that is not designated in the wild and scenic rivers act, but is one of the longest free-flowing rivers in the u.s. it's not the laws or the policies that i value, and it's not even the pictures, but the laws and policies (or, in this case, the lack of them) that have kept this river in much the same state, throughout my grandfather's life. that river is still very similar to the river he remembers it being as a youngster. but the missouri, because of the dams and other laws and policies, the large human hands shaping the river and the surrounding landscape--that river is quite different from how he remembers it--there are no more sandbars like he explored, no more whirlpools like the ones he dove into, and far fewer dangerous, crazy, extraordinary experiences like he had--the kind of rich experiences i value most. the reservoir is beautiful, but there's something even more beautiful, and unpredictably fascinating, about wild, free-flowing rivers.

i don't know of any songs that get at this quality, and i think that's because few people experience the wildness of rivers any more. many more people experience the managed missouri than those who experience the wild white. and that frustrates me, in much the same way as other losses of experience frustrate robert michael pyle in his essay on the extinction of experience. yes, it's true. the missouri is still somewhat wild--there are wild aspects--experiences along the shore of turkeys and coyotes, experiences in boats of waves and storms. yes, it's true. perhaps the river has never been as wild as i can imagine it, and certainly others experienced a river more wild than the one my grandfather experienced. but i feel it somewhat unfortunate that the kind of wild that most people experience now is not the wild missouri or the coyotes that can frighten you at night, the rattlesnakes you almost step on, the rush of your heart pumping, the lightheaded dizziness. the wild, even primal, experiences of nature can still be the sound of rain falling. and that's good. i love the rain so very much. but i often wonder what experiences i'm missing.

the beauty of the rain by dar williams

And you know the light is fading all too soon
You're just two umbrellas one late afternoon
You don't know the next thing you will say
This is your favorite kind of day
It has no walls
The beauty of the rain
Is how it falls, how it falls, how it falls

And there's nothing wrong but there is something more
And sometimes you wonder what you love her for
She says you've known her deepest fears
'Cause she's shown you a box of stained-glass tears
It can't be all
The truth about the rain
Is how it falls, how it falls, how it falls

But when she gave you more to find
You let her think she'd lost her mind
And that's all on you
Feeling helpless if she asked for help
Or scared you'd have to change yourself

And you can't deny this room will keep you warm
You can look out of your window at the storm
But you watch the phone and hope it rings
You'll take her any way she sings
Or how she calls
The beauty of the rain
Is how it falls, how it falls, how it falls
How it falls, how it falls, how it falls