Je t'aime tant

One of the reasons why I came here was to know better how to live in the moment, how to seize the day. Soon I've spent here four weeks, and I find that Iceland has instead been emphasizing my dreamer nature. In theory it sounds like a step in completely wrong direction, but at the moment it doesn't feel like one.

In the past I've thought quite extensively about what I dare to write in here and what not. Here I'm about to throw all those contemplations out of the window. I love people who can tell exactly how they think or feel, and I think I've reached a point where I can do that myself. I don't feel vulnerable about it any longer. I've been vulnerable for long enough already. For the people who've wandered to experience Iceland via my eyes, I apologize for writing just about myself again. This strange country will not be the object of this post, but instead a catalyst.

I'm being very sentimental today for two reasons. The first was a rather casual lunch table conversation with a couple of the other tenants in our home away from home, which sneakily led me to tell them about my genetical eye condition and some of the pain I've gone through because of it. The other was a long overdue movie experience. A friend had urged me to watch Before Sunrise and Before Sunset for quite awhile.

I'm not going to unfold the story of my life completely in here, since I think there would be way too much grief for a mere blog post. For those who don't know me well, I think I had to grow up way too early, because of many things. There were times in my (at that time already broken) family when I had to be the grown up in house at the age of 12 or 13. The event that shaped my future the most happened when I was 18 years old, about to graduate from high school, and wanting to be an air traffic controller. Around that time I was told that I might be blind in 20 years.

As you can imagine, that's kind of hard to hear as a teenager who had been spending quite a lot of time contemplating their future in the past years. I guess my initial thoughts were along the lines "so, what the **** am I going to do when I'm blind?" I don't think I'm exaggerating too much if I say in the following couple of months I was way closer to certain boundaries that I can comfortably be. Obviously, it's not set in the stones that it'll happen. Since the rod cells of my eyes aren't working properly, I'll most likely eventually lose most of my field of vision, but will retain the central reading ability of the cone cells. The science today has no cure for this, but maybe it eventually will. And most importantly, I've been able to move on. Even if it'll eventually happen, I won't spend my remaining years with vision just by worrying that I'm losing it someday. I opened some wounds today, but it gave me a lot of thoughts worth thinking.

A remark just for clarification: I'm not writing this because I want people to have pity on me. Please don't. There are people who've been through completely different things and suffer every day more than I've ever done. Furthermore, I'm not bitter about it for my parents, even though I know it comes from their genes. I won't waste my life on bitterness. I don't think I've ever felt it.

Some time after the aforementioned discussion I took up the films. After the first one I was dazzled. I know that at least one of you readers will frown upon the premise of Before Sunrise, but, well. I didn't, and I won't. It could've been one of my daydreams. Meeting a stranger by coincidence in a train, slowly realizing that this stranger might be the person to leave the biggest imprint in your soul, and at the same time knowing that by next morning it'd all be gone. To me it couldn't get much more romantic than that. Now, I also love Lost in Translation. I think LiT's appeal is based on beautiful visuals, where in Before Sunrise it came from the fantastic dialogue, what the protagonists say to each other. At the same time I could relate with many things that were said, but also felt like it gave me new perspective. Ordinary people having occasional great conversations. I'm lucky to have friends with whom I've talked about many things in the same enthusiastic manner as the couple is doing in the film. When it feels like you can't stop talking just because you're gaining so much even from the smallest words and thoughts.

And I saw myself. I am the very naive, idealistic fool in my early 20's who believes in love and such beautiful moments like those in the film. I come to think it's probably because I've been dealing with almost no relationships in my life so far. I've just been dreaming. When a dream ends, it doesn't leave you scarred, frustrated or cold. I can still believe in the kind of spontaneusness these two people get to feel in a movie. I haven't experienced enough to turn cynical. In Before Sunset the protagonists have been through just that.

After finishing the second movie I thought quite a lot about the cynicism, and how well all this seemed to blend with my life. I've had my share of misfortune in this life already, and while it has certainly made me introverted, it has not made me cynical. Our personality, our view of the world is nothing more and nothing less than a collection of fragments, of moments, events and feelings from the past. We are the sum, the output of what we've lived through. Most of mine are not very beautiful, yet still I can believe in happiness. I can still believe good will of the people. I can still hope that one day I get to feel the same kind of connection as the couple does in those movies, probably where I'd least expect it. I can still believe in dreams.

Of course I'm not completely content living only with my imagination. I could never say I don't feel the need to love and be loved. The thought of that stings me a bit almost every day. Just that I'm starting to be very good at living in my solitude, and I've been for so long. I'm not desperate either, I rather keep living alone than be in a relationship with someone who I don't truly want to be with.

Maybe it isn't so that to be able to enjoy the moments I should dream less. Maybe it goes the other way round as I previously thought it would. Maybe if I instead am able to keep this naive outlook on life, I'll end up loving the moments even more. Maybe to truly seize the days you need to keep yourself as open as possible. Maybe to keep your mind open you're not supposed to stop dreaming, but instead embrace and nurture it. Maybe to be able to grasp things you should not forbid yourself to dream about them. Maybe dreams are the fuel that keeps your soul burning when you have nothing else.

I think I'm lucky. I love being the naive fool that I am.