6:00 AM, and I wake up to the incessant blaring noise coming from the speakers on my alarm clock. I roll over and slam my palm down on its top and hit the snooze button. 6:09 AM, my eyes crack open to the incessancy again. I hit snooze. 6:18, 6:27, and 6:36 AM, I hit snooze. At 6:40 AM, I bring my head off my pillow, switch my alarm to the off position, and rise slowly to sit cross legged in my bed; I shake my head before stepping onto the unwelcoming carpeted floor.
Shower, brush teeth, dress, and eat while walking out the door to the long yellow bus that awaits me at its first stop of the day. I climb aboard and nod my head at the bus driver and smile as best I can. I sit in the third row from the front and get comfortable. I wipe away the toast crumbs around my lips and then wipe them off my shirt. As the bus moves, curving left with the mountain side, I look out the window and down to the city lights that shine in the early morning dimness. As I do this I am mesmerized. Not, however, by the long stretch of lights in the valley that normally takes my attention, but by the fact that I do these things five days a week, every week, and have never once looked anywhere but at the alarm, the shower wall, the mirror, the toaster, and those glimmering lights. Some may call that living in redundancy. Some may say it is living with order and discipline. I say it is living.
I live for something, everyday. There’s a reason I get up at 6:40 AM. I don’t know the reason. I think on the surface it is so I can get to school on time. But among that daily ritual lays a very intricate plan. My future depends on what I learn in my past. What I teach myself or am taught now will shape my future self. I believe that every step you take in life leads up to one major event that will decide who you finally end up being. I consistently hear people say that they’ve finally found themselves. Those people have walked great distances and awoke to incessancy many times. They all have experienced the redundancy, order, and discipline of life. Each of us has experienced whatever it is we are supposed to experience.
If you’re wondering what my point is in saying all this, then you might be disappointed. When I sat down to write this, I only had bits and pieces of what I was really trying to say. But we all know writers don’t know their thoughts until they jump into the page and begin to scribble them down. My point in saying all this is moot. You shouldn’t care anyway. You should read this, and take whatever you can from it. Because taking all you can out of everything you do is all you’re ever going to get.
These scribbles are one more step toward finding myself.
-Tom
