January 8, 1998

Didn't get to the game last night on time. They actually forfeited before we got there, as there weren't enough people, but that was okay. I really didn't want to play that other team, which had about 18 people, i.e. nearly three subs of each gender, with a team of only seven. We would have killed ourselves doing that. And there's another game tonight, so the forfeit was something of a blessing in disguise.

What do you see?

When you go through each day, what do you see? What do you feel? What do you discover?

Driving anywhere is an utter adventure for me. The shape of the land, the new things I can see, the people I can watch, the amazing things that are everywhere, even along the paths that I travel everyday. Perhaps especially. The string of glimmering rubies that are brake lights along the freeway, the colorful whirl of soccer players on the lighted fields. A few mornings ago, the sky had heavy clouds, but the ground was clear, so the sky was this gorgeous lavender over the clearest teal blue of clear sky, and set amid it all was the white clarity of Mount Rainer gleaming in distant sunlight, glowing even as the rest of the world around me was grey and mysterious with mists.

Mark says it's all in how I live my life. How I'm built, that I see wonder all around me, in every arch of a bough or angle of light through a window. He may be right. I may also have to believe him when he says that he doesn't want to write that way, and it's because he hasn't appreciated life and everything around me the way I do. Doesn't mean I have to like it.

I was just thinking about that as we drove to and from our game last night. The pool of light on the field was palpable amid the darkness of the cloudy night. It was so keen just to see that brightness and the folks running about. Playing for fun was good, too, as the other team gave us all their extra people and we had a blast just playing entirely for fun. Self-regulation is pretty good.

And after just falling over for no good reason (I still don't know how I did that. I just landed on my butt without actually moving anywhere) I did okay playing. It was fun to just run without too much urgency and without worrying about any score, just pass and play and putz about.

Another thought that The Titanic awoke in me is the idea and realization that everywhere there are people that will live and die and only be remembered by a few, who will then die themselves unless they tell their stories to allow others to remember. Mark always said that he thought he'd always be forgotten, and that speaks to the heart of me.

Carl's elves, in his Shadowrun games, have a belief at the heart of many of their beliefs and that that is that Names matter, that real people live on only through their stories after they've died. So a few elves seek out Names that will always be remembered by stories that no one could forget or would always pass on. Perhaps the idea that a soul is a meme to be passed on to live. And since most elves are immortal, unless they get killed, they have quite a long time to plan and play out their stories, get their Names known. It also helps that all elves have eidetic memories and never sleep, so they remember stories and Names even more clearly than that.

There have, perhaps, been reasons why Carl sometimes has fun joking about my Elf-like qualities. Including the point when I got my Butterfly laptop and he pointed out that most Name elves have a few Butterflies with them, whom are elves or people who have decided to give their energies, lives and the like to the forwarding of someone else's Name. Choosing oblivion for themselves in order to perpetuate another's story.

Anyway... it just struck me, is all.

All those stories from all those people that no one heard or wrote down or passed along to others. Sure, much of that is the compost of the subconcious for all the rest of us, but still. So much lost, and possibly rightfully so as the Internet is so good at reminding us. But still...

Perhaps my feeling of pain at that is the knowledge that I may well be as forgotten as the rest of them. That, perhaps, trying to be remembered makes a lousy life goal as all goals make lousy life goals, as it's not a *doing* but a concrete thing that can or cannot be reached and doesn't really add meaning to my life the way that just seeing a dozen trees lined up like sunset sentinels amid the blazing of a jewel colored sunset, or a quiet sip of tea, or the slow building striving of painting better characters or pictures, or the architecting of yet a better tool does add to my life as I live it. Not as others perceive it.

© 1998 by Liralen Li.

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