June 28, 2005
An essay I dug up from English 101
To start off, happy birthday to my dad. He’s 62. He won’t be reading this since they’re at the bay this week, but I didn’t forget about him.
This has been a hectic week, you’d think that since Tiffany and Caleb were gone, that I would have gobs and gobs of free time to sit and ponder lots of interesting topics to write about, but instead I’m working hard trying to finish a website, checking things off my honey-do list. And on top of that, I’m working 10 hours a day for four days this week, so I can get Friday off.
So instead of writing something profound, I’m going to let you read an essay I wrote nearly 11 years ago in English 101 at the University of South Alabama. I went there one year before I transferred to the University of Mobile. It’s so weird to look back over these to see what I was thinking. I give you…
Clockwise
By Andy Knight
I looked up at the clock as I finished reading Loren Eiseley’s "The Brown Wasps" for the third time. The motion of the second hand caught my attention after I read the words from the essay: "We are all out of touch but somehow permanent." However, I noticed not only a characteristic of a clock but also a characteristic of life—time always travels in the same direction. As a result, all I have rests in today and the expectation of tomorrow.
I agree with Eiseley’s statement in "The Brown Wasps." Time travels vaporously fast, and the past can never be lived again. No matter what happened in the past, I know that I must keep a firm grasp of today because a glimmer of worry-free liberation exists in the absolute present. The past cannot be changed, and once I accept that, why should I worry? I am out of touch with my past, but somehow I am permanently affixed to the choices of the present and the anticipation of tomorrow.
Every year around the end of summer jellyfish start making their way into Mobile Bay. On one of those hot days while I was sitting on the pier with my feet dangling in the water, I recognized a jellyfish drifting near my feet.
After jerking my feet out of the murky water, the elusive creature floated carelessly passed me. I pondered where it had been and how many people it had stung. The jellyfish was unconcerned with where it had been because it went wherever the current took him. My life resembles the life of the jellyfish; in that, the important things are occurring in the present. Therefore, the choices I made yesterday cannot be changed, and I do not worry about tomorrow because today has enough worries.
Furthermore, I also live for the anticipation of tomorrow. Growing up, I remember the most exciting yet longest weeks of my life took place the week before Christmas. Obviously, I was thrilled because I knew that there would be new toys waiting for me on Christmas morning; however, a week after that, the toys did not enthuse me any longer. The rewarding things of this world exist not in the things but the anticipation of those things.
A juggler also illustrates the anticipation of the future. When I learned to juggle, I always became frustrated when I dropped the balls. I now know that I dropped the balls because I watched my hands and tried to make a clean catch instead of watching the balls in the air. In juggling, I have to watch the balls in the air and anticipate where they will land, so, in essence, I am anticipating the future in order to make the right choices that will affect me today.
The clock on the wall ticks away while the carefree jellyfish drifts through life. Time travels too swift to worry about the past because those choices cannot be changed, but the expectation of the future brings a joy to my eyes that can only be compared to a six year old at Christmas. Also, the choices that I make today are made in anticipation of tomorrow. Just like the juggler anticipates where the ball will land, I also anticipate my future to make the right choices for today. Loren Eiseley describes time like this: "Life disappears or modifies its appearance so fast that everything takes on an aspect of illusion…"
The end.
I can’t believe you stuck through to the end. It was kind of weird, don’t you think?
