Sunday, February 1, 2009

The Weather of Life

Everything is a metaphor. I'm always saying it. I don't think good fiction resembles life; a good life resembles fiction. And it's obvious to see. Take me, for example. I love movies, so my life is enjoyable when I have the right music, the right pacing, the right scene, and so on. I particularly enjoy romantic comedies (not actively, but statistically), so the two things worth living for are love and laughs. I laugh, I cry, and in between, I watch and enjoy.
Perhaps you like science fiction, and you enjoy imagining the unimaginable. Life can be more enjoyable when everything works; when your toast comes out just right, not because of luck, but because of science!
Or maybe fantasy novels are your cup of tea. Finding your path; your destiny. A purpose that is not yet seen, but a willingness to let it take you where it may. It can be a compromising burden, but it's yours to carry.

We all have some fiction that tune our happiness into. Even if it's hard, we enjoy it on some level. Otherwise, we would change it, most simply by not giving a fuck. After all, plenty of people live not giving a fuck. It can't be that hard. But we're different. Fiction gives rise to so many literary devices that make us follow the lives we live. Catharsis, foreshadow, and, obviously, metaphor.

Which brings me back around to my main point. Metaphors.
I hope the weather isn't a metaphor for life. It is so beautiful and sunny and warm. I don't want it to get cold again. I don't want the wind to pull tears from my eyes. I don't want to curl up under the blankets alone to keep warm.
January has come and gone, and it's been hard, metaphor or no. Likewise, February is not known to be any better. But there's even less I can do about life than I can about the weather. All there is to do is go outside and enjoy it. Bask in the sun while it shows itself to you. Let it fill you up.

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