Before Knowledge

Oftentimes, I’ll write in my journal about thoughts or feelings that I am aware will change in a very short amount of time. I write them down — express them in full — then acknowledge the very fact that they will change soon enough. Today is one of those days, at least I certainly hope the thoughts and feelings I have will change soon enough. Nevertheless, I figure this is as good of a time as any to write.

I just returned from my trip where I had the most remarkable time. I spoke a lot with who I endearingly call the wisest man in Iceland: a man I first met two years ago who owns an incredible book collection. He said his goal is always to read one book and watch one movie each and every day. We spoke a lot about the world at large. I’ve been infected with thought. It won’t leave me. Now, seeing the drastic change in these mere two weeks upon returning to the city is a little overwhelming: it’s now brutally hot and sunny, the trees are in full bloom, and tourists swarm the sidewalks and streets. Being back here, in my own apartment, for whatever reason doesn’t feel like home.

Much of my time in the countryside was spent thinking about what I want to do, where I want to be, and what kind of people I want to be surrounded by. My poetry event was yesterday, you can find a short recording here. I did my best to write Icelandic poetry, but this aforementioned man introduced me to so much Icelandic literature, that I ultimately felt like I was disgracing the language after what linguistic masterpieces I saw. Nevertheless, I kept on. I also wrote and read some pieces in English.

The people there were incredible. My hosts were perhaps the most kind people I have ever met in my life. The artists, including Iceland’s wisest man, were also incredible. One poet and I sparked a conversation that resulted in us helping to organize a festival in July: a literary and music festival over a long weekend. Spending time both alone and then with my girlfriend was also quite nice. However, I had too much on my mind at all times. Too many thoughts and ideas to ever be fully present. Hence why I sit here now in a strange mood. Though at least for once, a writing mood.

I’ve had enough of my job. There was more drama while I was away, more changes. I’ll meet my friends tomorrow and learn more. Then I work on Sunday. But another question crosses my mind: the idea of Reykjavík, the idea of Iceland. Everywhere I go in this country, I am welcomed and accepted. So many foreigners decry Icelandic society due to its closed nature and lack of ins. As I’ve learned, speaking the language removes any and all barriers. And what would life be like elsewhere? in the country? in the world?

Part of me wants to share my deepest, innermost thoughts and feelings directly from my journal. But that’s a line I’m not yet willing to cross: a level of vulnerability I have not yet reached with myself. Instead, I wrote another piece that expresses everything through metaphor and meaning between lines. An excerpt:

Shattered mirrors surround me. They show me fragments of myself. Through them, I see the world in glimpses. The space around me is dark. Sunlight takes no form but of reflection. I am dark. I have no form but in my fragments…

…Another eye holds my attention. It looks at me in steady calm. Its understanding, of equal intimacy. Yet its compassion is without yield. To whom does it belong? My musings draw from it a tear. It looks down. No longer able to meet my gaze.

And down I stare at the world in pieces. Lost to the darkness of my mind…

…My pain is the jagged edges upon which my attempts to rearrange are met with blood…

Just before the event yesterday, I wrote another piece (see aforementioned recording):

Draumurinn minn er að dreyma lengur ei,

að fylgja hjartanu sem í mér er

En í mér eru staddir draumarnir í magni,

sem ásækja mig

Án þess að gefa eftir

Ennþá mig dreymir

Mig dreymir um frelsið sem fylgir að vakna

Að hleypa inn ljósinu,

inn í hjartað sem í mér er svart

Sem er á bak við augnlokin

Lokuð

fyrir heiminum

This was the most well-received piece from my reading, to my surprise.

I think my problem is the role of home versus society. I made this place my home. I built a society of my own. Yet that isn’t right. Society isn’t something that I should be running. It is something I am meant to simply be a part of, to join into. I found that in the countryside: society. A good one, at that. Now I’m in this city that feels so vast and cold and empty. Soulless.

There’s more to say; there always is. But right now, I’m speaking with the knowledge that I’m missing knowledge. Surely I’ll feel entirely differently about entirely everything tomorrow or the day after. However, I want to give recognition to today: this moment as I experience it. Life isn’t worth living for tomorrow, so I’ll engage with it today.