Great Barrier Reef
I was checking out the Maps application in the Windows 8 Consumer Preview. I scrolled on over to Canada, and then Iceland, and then Greenland, then decided to zoom out so I could see more. It was almost like going to see all of these places without having to pay airfare. After checking out Russia and Africa, I zoomed back in to check out Australia. It's pretty huge by the way, in case none of you knew. I'd heard about the Great Barrier Reef in one of my classes and read about the heart-shaped reef just off of it in one of those lists MSN is always advertising. I wanted to see it on the map.
Just under Australia is Tasmania. Between it, and all around it is water, nothing but water. The sight of all of that deep, endless water (I know it's not actually endless) made my heart pound. I decided not to look for the reef. When I wanted to scroll over to see just where Nicaragua is (since my mom says she's moving there, I thought I'd see about how to get there) I didn't get very far from the border of Australia and into Africa before I started freaking out. It was strange. I had to stop across Africa, and I could barely look at all the water in between Africa and South America. Nicaragua, by the way, is somewhere next to Mexico, which is separated from South America by another large body of water.
I can't tell you why, but the sight of all of that water, of the deep darkness just waiting to swallow me up through my computer screen frightened me so badly, I almost didn't make it through the Gulf of Mexico without turning the map off. I think it may have something to do with the unknown.
Or maybe I had a traumatic incident in water when I was younger. But I've never heard about it, so let's just assume that's not it.
What is so scary about the unknown? Why is it that just thinking about the future, about the deep darkness that lies ahead of each of us, gives us heart palpitations? Am I the only one? I've got to say, not too many others seem to be all that worried. Should I let go, and not worry also? How can that lead to good?
The dark hides things. It hides a lot of things. The darkness of my rug is hiding the many particles of sand and dirt that clutter its fibers. The darkness of my drawers hides the things I've put into them. The darkness outside my trailer hides leaves and trees (and all manner of things...) and killers and rapists and failure and rejection. Or maybe that's the darkness of the future.
When I reach underneath things, I always half-expect something to come up and bite me. I guess I'm afraid that if I reach out to grab the things that I want, something will cheat me out of it. Something will happen so that nothing good ever happens. Something will bite me, and the mark won't go away.
Just under Australia is Tasmania. Between it, and all around it is water, nothing but water. The sight of all of that deep, endless water (I know it's not actually endless) made my heart pound. I decided not to look for the reef. When I wanted to scroll over to see just where Nicaragua is (since my mom says she's moving there, I thought I'd see about how to get there) I didn't get very far from the border of Australia and into Africa before I started freaking out. It was strange. I had to stop across Africa, and I could barely look at all the water in between Africa and South America. Nicaragua, by the way, is somewhere next to Mexico, which is separated from South America by another large body of water.
I can't tell you why, but the sight of all of that water, of the deep darkness just waiting to swallow me up through my computer screen frightened me so badly, I almost didn't make it through the Gulf of Mexico without turning the map off. I think it may have something to do with the unknown.
Or maybe I had a traumatic incident in water when I was younger. But I've never heard about it, so let's just assume that's not it.
What is so scary about the unknown? Why is it that just thinking about the future, about the deep darkness that lies ahead of each of us, gives us heart palpitations? Am I the only one? I've got to say, not too many others seem to be all that worried. Should I let go, and not worry also? How can that lead to good?
The dark hides things. It hides a lot of things. The darkness of my rug is hiding the many particles of sand and dirt that clutter its fibers. The darkness of my drawers hides the things I've put into them. The darkness outside my trailer hides leaves and trees (and all manner of things...) and killers and rapists and failure and rejection. Or maybe that's the darkness of the future.
When I reach underneath things, I always half-expect something to come up and bite me. I guess I'm afraid that if I reach out to grab the things that I want, something will cheat me out of it. Something will happen so that nothing good ever happens. Something will bite me, and the mark won't go away.
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