It Was Supposed To Be Space Travel
I think I’m tired of living in a moment in history. Do you remember when the movies would talk about where we would be at this time, how the future would progress so much and so positively that it was nearly unrecognizable from the way things were? Maybe that’s what we were all told in school, just to push us towards going to college; maybe the idea of a glowing future, with space hotels and no more disease was just a pipe dream made by older people who saw us kids watching Phineas and Ferb and thought “hey, maybe these guys could make it.”
At least the snow is beautiful. That sounds like such a ridiculous thing to say now, though, doesn’t it? At least this time, the thing that throws us in a panic is pretty to watch and romantic to hide from. The last time I didn’t have water was because of floods and invader clams in Austin’s reservoirs, and my whole bathroom smelled like a cheap seafood restaurant for days. Funnily enough, we’re now stocking up on water using the same bottles we had to use back then when the taps were too dangerous to drink. I remember before I heard that there was a water ban in Austin, I’d made coffee with the stuff that was rumored to be lethal. C’est la vie.
Back to my original point. Something should be said for those who went through life, and nothing particularly news-worthy happened. I’m not sure if there’s ever been a time like that in history, but a girl can dream. And I don’t want to hear anything about how Texans don’t know about hard winters, because you’re right. We don’t. We are not used to this, and we probably never will be. Before the snow got really bad and people became locked inside their homes with no power or water, I was driving. This giant oak tree I passed must have been older than the town it lived in, and was encased in ice and bent so low to the ground it could have had arthritis. My first thought was that it was probably going to die, because it wasn’t used to this. Then I thought of how ridiculous it was that this tree doesn’t move from place to frozen place, and has experienced many other natural disasters, but the frost found it, and now it’s not as it should be. No, I don’t think we’re going to die. Come to think of it, I don’t think that tree is going to die.
But it made me think of life (what doesn’t), and its unpredictability. We are not solitary trees suddenly overtaken by frost, but that doesn’t mean we’re not unlike them. No matter how prepared we may feel for the future, how firmly rooted in the here and now. Texas is very weird and will remind you that you’re never fully prepared for everything. Do you know why I think that tree will be okay? Because Texans are obsessed with their old trees, and they were starting to put up supports for it so it wouldn’t fall. Do you know why I think we will be okay? Because Texans are obsessed with their neighbors, and we will make sure others are taken care of.
Something must be said for allowing yourself to be taken care of. I’m still trying to figure it out myself. If you are hurting, and want nothing more than to only worry about yourself, that is when you need others the most. Suffering will find your heart and etch itself into your bones without help, and it’s a funny thing that the only real cure to that is to smile wide and trust in the fundamental good of mankind. If you want to call that childish and naive, I don’t really care. I refuse to believe that I am supposed to stay mean and bitter and call that realism; I will suffer and then I will recover and then I will tattoo half my arm in flowers because it is pretty, and you will have to deal with it. Don’t be afraid to go after comfort sometimes, or throw a fit because of stupid snow. Love everyone without hesitation, even though everyone has had their heart broken so many times. Find people who are shivering and keep them warm. Because that is what growing up really looks like: it’s not about losing hope and becoming “realistic”, it’s about believing in that glittering future of space adventures a little harder than before.
Maybe I do wish that I was living in a moment in history, as long as I can also say that I was not alone in it. Stay warm, friends. Check on your neighbors. Tell me if you are cold.