Ok, this post comes with a sappy/cheesy/hippy-ish warning. I can’t help it when I write about looking at stars.
I can’t entirely put into words the way I feel when I look at stars. And it is exactly this feeling that I want to talk about. When I see a beautiful night sky, I am overwhelmed with things I can’t describe. Contact had it right when the main character says “They should have sent a poet” but maybe even a gifted wordsmith would have problems describing their strongest emotions.
Regardless of my fascination with astronomy, I revel in the fact that I can experience something for which I have no words. How lucky we are that we can still have experiences which are beyond the bounds of our language.
And how lucky we are that we have been given the opportunity to have such perception (or lack thereof) of the world. We exist in a world which is beyond its own means of description and perception. There something about the Universe we live in that is beyond its own powers of experience and there is something amazing about that (to me anyway).
And as a musician who becomes more “trained” with every passing day to be able to describe music, I am clinging for dear life to the beyond-description of music. I am trying desperately to not become jaded as so many musicians do. I am trying to not let my knowledge obscure my appreciation of the unknowable.
Because what I love about life is my inability to describe it at least in its entirety. I can see that there are stars and I know that they are balls of gas burning in different intensities etc. but I can never truly perceive the vastness of that world and all of the interacting events going on in it.
I can understand how sound works, how to play in tune, the rules of baroque performance, etc. but there will always be some things just outside the realm of perception which is nevertheless integral to the situation.
There is always going to be something happening for which I have no words, and I revel in that.