What is this thing that happens inside us? We look forward to something with such fervor that we can hardly bear the intensity. And then, sometimes within seconds of reaching the goal, we grow bored and tired of it, even acting as though we’d never wanted it in the first place.
There’s that photograph in the travel book, the one we stare at for hours, imagining what it would be like to be standing in the picture. Then, after enduring the obstacles and frustrations of modern transportation, we’re there. Now we’re gazing upon the same scene – those mountains, that bridge, this landmark. For entire minutes, we have to remind ourselves that we’re no longer home, dreaming of the visit. We’ve removed most of the physical space that had separated us from this place, and we’re really here.
It happened the first time I went to Washington DC and saw the Capitol Building. I arrived on a wet August night. After climbing the stairs from the subway up to street level, I turned around and there it was, off in the distance. The dome, in all its milky majesty, appeared to be illuminated as if by its own private star shining overhead. I was mesmerized. Having seen hundreds of images in books, magazines, and newspapers, as well as in movies and on television, I had to struggle to believe I was looking at the real thing, not through any print or electronic medium, but with my own eyes. The next morning, clutching my tourist map, I had the same reaction to the Lincoln and Jefferson Memorials, the Supreme Court Building, and the White House. By the following day, I had adjusted to being there, and was peering right past those now-familiar sights, searching for something fresh and stimulating. They had blended into the background. The enthusiasm was all but gone.
Where did it go? Where does it ever go? Have you watched an eight-year-old boy unwrapping birthday presents? It’s the identical process, but in a fast-forward loop: anticipation-excitement-acclimation-boredom. Then, if there’s another package to open, the loop begins again with a renewed frenzy. And after the last one, he slides down into a kind of despair, maybe understanding, on a subconscious and adolescent level, that no gift could have matched his yearning to receive it.
I’d like to think that I’ve outgrown that immature mentality, but I haven’t. I’m stunned by how quickly I move through a similar cycle, from eager expectation to wondering what’s next.
It must be related to chemicals. When we’re about to have a new experience, our brains release hormones that make us feel euphoric. If enough time has passed, that same experience – seeing Niagara Falls, for example, or eating pancakes — can make us happy again. But if we try to duplicate the response too soon, it doesn’t work.
This is a common human tendency. We start out with a strong desire for something, but soon become accustomed to it, and the thrill fades. And that’s good. If we didn’t get used to things, we’d spend too much time re-living emotions, over and over. It would be like having no short-term memory. We’d be stuck, forever, in a narrow sliver of the world.
On the other hand, when it comes to relationships, wouldn’t it be nice if we could return to the dreamy, glazed passion of those first days and weeks? Wouldn’t we love to hold onto that dopamine-infused enchantment that carried us through the early months?
I don’t know. It seems like a pleasant thought, but would we ever get anything done? Would we get enough sleep? Would the bills get paid?
To be in a constant state of obsessive enthrallment would likely be as damaging as its extreme opposite – the continual need for novelty and adventure. The ideal situation, I think, is probably somewhere near the middle. If we’re patient and attentive, we can always find something new in what has become commonplace, something we hadn’t before noticed or appreciated.
I must have stumbled upon this very idea hundreds of times in my life. And each time, it strikes me as compelling, intriguing, and attractive. I’m pretty sure that’s because I haven’t yet figured out how to actually do it. My fear is that I’ve been too busy counting gifts.
* * * * *
By the way, this is exactly why I’ve never gone to the Grand Canyon.
disconnectedlandscapes
June 18, 2014
Reblogged this on Disconnected Landscapes.
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bronxboy55
July 9, 2014
Sorry, but I just spotted this comment. Thank you for the reblog.
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Chichina
June 18, 2014
Our society is addicted to newer, faster, better, sexier, younger…. and the list goes on ad nauseum. Best to stick with the boring and mundane, the tried and true, and climb on a roller coaster whenever you need a thrill.
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bronxboy55
June 19, 2014
I often wonder why it is that there’s so much emotional depression in places where there’s also so much material wealth. I’m sure your daily work has you thinking about that, too.
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Jac
June 18, 2014
You know how much I talk about and look forward to heaven, but this is the one nagging concern that I have even about that perfect place. I seriously wonder how we will NOT get bored or complacent, since we won’t have to spend our time working or doing anything tedious. I get bored so easily that I can’t even eat my favorite breakfast more than 3 days in a row. Time will be endless and we will be able to do pretty much what we want, when we want, and there won’t even be that 7 – 8 hours of sleeping to give our minds a rest. I try to hang onto the idea that it will be all Grand Canyons and Niagara Falls(but not Washington DC). Before I moved to CO, I swore that I would never get tired of looking at the mountains, and I haven’t, but my jaw certainly doesn’t drop anymore. I love to be in awe of things and I am always sad when the awe fades. I will be one of those souls in eternity that will always be flitting from one thing to the next, but I probably won’t be the only one 🙂
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bronxboy55
June 19, 2014
I think one of the benefits of travel is that we get to see different places, but then we also get to go home and appreciate our immediate surroundings all over again. It’s all about the contrast, I guess. When the nuns would describe heaven to us, I would start to squirm around in my seat. It was the forever-and-ever thing.
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desertdweller29
June 18, 2014
I think you plucked this thought from my head last weekend! I recently visited Rome for the first time. The first day I took a million pictures and couldn’t get enough. By day 6, the camera was left in the hotel and my family and I blazed by more ancient ruins and waved them off as “probably another church or monument” and headed straight for the gelato shops and cafes. To maintain that first day level of excitement would have been debilitating and exhausting.
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bronxboy55
June 19, 2014
I remember noticing that same thing on our first trip to Italy. I referred to it as being churched-out. In fact, I still use that phrase when I see too many of anything, as in “I’m getting churched-out on the caves.”
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O. Leonard
June 18, 2014
No, you should go to the Grand Canyon. It’s breathtaking the first time you look over the side into the chasm. The first thing you wonder is why there is so little protection to keep people from falling into the abyss. The second and third time, not so much. I have to say, I had the exact same experience the first time I went to Washington DC. I want to go back, but I’m sure it will be as you describe. I didn’t get to see everything though, so there will be new experiences, but the Capitol Building…..seen it. The White House, didn’t see it because there was a white tent the size of the White House obscuring it from view.
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bronxboy55
June 19, 2014
I was surprised by how small the White House was. And the same thing happened in Las Vegas. I guess the Grand Canyon won’t look small, but it takes so long to get there — and then what?
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Ruth Rainwater
June 18, 2014
Hm. I hadn’t really thought about it. There are so many little miracles every single day, I don’t think I’ve ever really lost that sense of wonder. I’ve been to the Grand Canyon and want to go back. There are so many different view points, and the view changes depending on season, sunlight or lack thereof, cloud cover. One would never see the same thing twice. The most wondrous thing for me was watching birds soaring and floating on the thermals but several hundred feet below us.
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bronxboy55
June 19, 2014
But still, there’s something different about seeing a place for the first time. That feeling never happens again, at least not in the same way. I think we can love something so much that we look forward to going back, and then it’s the familiarity that we’re attracted to. Maybe I still haven’t explained what I mean well enough.
I hope you’re doing well, Ruth.
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Betty Londergan
June 18, 2014
On the other hand, I was really looking forward to your blog post today — and then I opened it, and then I clicked on the Guilt Trip video — and it was even better than I expected! BONUS!
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bronxboy55
June 20, 2014
I saw that movie a few months ago, reluctantly, but it was better than I’d expected, too.
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Betty Londergan
June 18, 2014
(p.s. Having kids is the only thing I think exceeded my expectations by a mile. The good, the bad, the annoying, the ridiculous love — just WAY deeper than anything I anticipated. )
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bronxboy55
June 20, 2014
I know what you mean.
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Kathryn McCullough
June 18, 2014
I generally have to agree with your premise. We crave something only to be disappointed when we get it. It’s the anticipation that means the most. I especially love this sentence, “We’ve removed most of the physical space that had separated us from this place, and we’re really here.”
Hugs from Ecuador,
Kathy
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bronxboy55
June 20, 2014
Kathy, I don’t think I speak for everyone about this idea — or even most people — but I’ve noticed in myself how quickly that little thrill of newness disappears. And I’m still trying to figure out if it’s a strength or a weakness, or maybe something else entirely.
Do you ever have this experience with hats?
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icedteawithlemon
June 18, 2014
So very true, Charles. I have spent much of the past two years exploring my little patch of the world, and I have been surprised by how often my patience and attentiveness have paid off with never-seen-before beauty–commonplace delights that surely must have always been there but that I never took the time to see. And the more I discover in my own little patch, the more I desire exploring elsewhere, although I think in that “anticipation-excitement-acclimation-boredom” sequence I skip over the last step and move right on to “wondering what’s next.” And right now I have my sights set on exploring and photographing the beauty of this little island to the north … http://www.buzzfeed.com/tanyachen/surreal-breathtaking-canada
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bronxboy55
June 20, 2014
Karen, let’s do an experiment. Pick a specific site that you really want to see, and we’ll all go there together. Then try to describe, out loud, your sense of excitement upon first seeing it, and then what happens as the feeling fades.
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icedteawithlemon
June 21, 2014
I like how you think, Charles! I’ll start composing and prioritizing a wish list, and we’ll talk …
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earthriderjudyberman
June 18, 2014
Charles … This line of yours sums up my feelings best: “If we’re patient and attentive, we can always find something new in what has become commonplace, something we hadn’t before noticed or appreciated.”
This is why it’s great to go out with a young child. When you see the world thru their eyes, the ordinary suddenly becomes unique and amazing. Your curiosity is aroused and boring is no longer a part of your vocabulary.
And do visit the Grand Canyon. It’s been years since we’ve been there, but I remember flying in a small plane to an eatery that also sold trinkets to the tourists. The food, prepared by the Native Americans who ran it, was good. But what sticks with me to this day is taking that lunch and eating it by the rim of the canyon. Awesome. Amazing views. Wish I had the courage to ride the rapids as well.
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bronxboy55
June 20, 2014
Judy, I’ve had this experience with many places: Niagara Falls, the Gateway Arch, the Liberty Bell, the Tower Bridge, Pompeii, the Atomic Dome in Hiroshima, and others. And each time, I’m stunned by how quickly the original destination becomes part of the background. I guess that’s how we keep finding something new.
I’ll definitely take your advice and visit the Grand Canyon someday.
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earthriderjudyberman
June 20, 2014
I understand, Charles. We’re so inundated by sights and sounds. You’ve seen an amazing number of places. Some I’d love to see. Others, I have.
I do hope you get to see the Grand Canyon soon. Another thing I’d love to do, but suspect I’d quickly tire of, would be to ride the trails on the mules in Grand Canyon. 😉
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nemoimago
June 18, 2014
Reblogged this on Nemo Imago.
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bronxboy55
June 20, 2014
Thanks. I’m glad you liked it.
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Margo Karolyi
June 18, 2014
I’ve never gotten tired of visiting Walt Disney World (and I’ve been a dozen times) – maybe because its always makes me feel like a kid and experiencing things from a child’s perspective is never boring. We need some sort of ‘reset’ switch so we can re-experience things ‘for the first time’ over and over again (if we so choose).
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bronxboy55
June 21, 2014
Now I’m starting to wonder if some of us have the reset switch, and others don’t. I know that if I went back to Niagara Falls today, I would have almost the same nervous-system response to it that I had the first time, because it’s so unlike anything else that I typically experience. But I also know that within about an hour, the thrill of seeing the falls again would diminish. Maybe this ability is necessary, so that we don’t become permanently hypnotized by new experiences.
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morristownmemos by Ronnie Hammer
June 18, 2014
I hate to admit it, but the truth is that no matter how much I want something, when I get it I lose interest almost immediately. Maybe the thrill of the chase is what it’s all about.
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bronxboy55
June 21, 2014
Ronnie, our house is filled with things I couldn’t resist buying. Now when I notice some of them, I realize I haven’t looked at them in years. Maybe it’s time for that yard sale.
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Diane Henders
June 18, 2014
It’s not the big wonders of nature or architecture that stay forever fresh for me. It’s the little wonders of life. The fact that I can turn a tap and have crystal-clear drinking water instantly, hot or cold, never fails to delight me. Refrigerators. Automatic washing machines and dryers. My warm comfortable bed. The ability to go to a doctor or a physiotherapist or a massage therapist; the fact that there’s a veritable army of people who sincerely want to make me feel better… it all delights me over and over and over. Mind you, I realize I have to pay for all these things, but still, the fact that they exist and I can afford them is mind-boggling. I have some wonderful memories of awe-inspiring scenery, too, but the little daily miracles are the ones that mean the most to me. Small things amuse small minds, I guess… 😉
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bronxboy55
June 21, 2014
I think that must be one of the secrets to happiness, Diane. I try to appreciate those kinds of things, too, but what happens just as often is that I take them for granted — then just feel frustrated when they stop working. The refrigerator is an amazing thing, though, isn’t it?
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genusrosa
June 19, 2014
One of my favorite quotes is from Marcel Proust: ‘The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.’ This comes close to what you wrote about being ‘patient and attentive, we can always find something new in what has become commonplace..’ Nice.
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bronxboy55
June 21, 2014
If you’re going to mention me and Proust in the same breath, I’ll take that as my compliment for the year.
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ranu802
June 19, 2014
I agree with you, when my daughter was a year old she couldn’t wait to open her gifts once she opened them she tossed them aside, it starts early doesn’t it?
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bronxboy55
June 21, 2014
It starts early, and to some degree it never stops.
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Farid
June 19, 2014
Intense thought. The reason we lose interest is because our search and anticipation for unseen things doesn’t end. Once it’s a reality and in possession, the value fades. Its important to find love with the people around instead of searching for new. Right?
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bronxboy55
June 21, 2014
It seems inevitable that, when it comes to objects and landscapes, the value will fade. The danger occurs when that tendency affects our relationships. Yes, I agree with you — searching for new love can become an addiction that is never satisfied.
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wheremyfeetare
June 20, 2014
Love this post and can relate to it so well. I try to notice the ordinary things around me with fresh eyes but not always easy. I also like to have something to look forward to, it can be as simple as dinner with my beau or coffee with a friend or planning a long weekend or vacation. Sometimes, my struggle is not getting bored with the day to day stuff…life is really incredible!
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bronxboy55
June 22, 2014
I’m the same way, Geralyn: I can get through almost anything if I have something to look forward to. And you’re right when you say it isn’t always easy to notice the ordinary things with fresh eyes. Most of us are just racing around too much.
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Chris12
June 20, 2014
This post reminded me of how glad I am that I wasn’t endowed with an eidetic memory. At a time, when i first discovered there were people out there with this ability, I was envious. That envy quickly faded to pity when I realized the other end of the spectrum — reliving horrible memories. And of course the inability to rediscover those few and far between awesome moments.
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bronxboy55
June 22, 2014
My memory is probably just as distorted as that of anyone else. Apparently, most of us revise our memories every time we take them out and examine them. It’s like a game of telephone, but played inside our minds.
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Doug Bittinger
June 21, 2014
You make some excellent points, Charles – in your always entertaining manner. The dopamine to divorce cycle is way too prevalent because people expect that “high” to last forever. As you point out, we’d never get anything done if it did. I live in an area where people come and spend hundreds or even thousands of dollars a day to stay in a cabin and see the views and smell the air. I’ve been here for 13 years now. Some of the intensity has diminished but I still enjoy the feeling that I’m on an extended vacation … except I work. And I’m glad we built a house instead of renting a cabin for $500 a day.
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bronxboy55
June 22, 2014
It is a strange feeling when you realize you live in a place that people spend thousands of dollars to visit. On the other hand, tourists get to limit their experiences to the wonderful stuff, and filter out the day-to-day nonsense that goes on everywhere.
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rangewriter
June 21, 2014
I’m so lucky. I’m a flat liner. Never too excited, never too disappointed. I never wanted to go to the Grand Canyon. When I got drug there by circumstances beyond my control, I was relieved to be able to say, “Nya, been there, done that.” ;-}
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bronxboy55
June 22, 2014
I don’t believe you’re really a flatliner, Linda. I think you hold your excitement inside, and convert it into beautiful photography and prose.
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rangewriter
June 22, 2014
Ah, shucks, Charles.
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shoreacres
June 22, 2014
I almost always can find a point of connection with your posts, but this time, it evaded me. I’m just not part of that “we” that over-anticipates and then moans with boredom, disappointment or regret. I certainly did go through the “can’t wait for Christmas” syndrome when I was a kid, and there are times when I’ve thought about a place or a thing, “Well. It’s not all THAT,” but i mostly just make my way along, waiting for the next surprise.
One of my favorite stories ever was written by a guy for the NY Times. He undertook what he called a Block-a-Thon. For a year, he walked around his block (Brooklyn, I believe) and observed what was going on. To his immense surprise, his city block was filled with interesting people and minutiae, and even when nothing new popped up on a given day, the routine itself became interesting.
Honestly, I think there’s a direct link between boredom, over-anticipation and disappoinment. It’s called lack of sensitivity to what’s around us. (That sounds more judgmental than I mean it. I just think it’s a fact of life, and even though I’m rarely bored, when I am, it’s usually because I’m not paying attention to the world around me. On the other hand, I think I’ll always be bored at cocktail parties.)
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bronxboy55
June 22, 2014
The original premise of this post was a sensation I often notice, and which I assume is unavoidable. It’s what happens when an experience or place goes from “I’ve-never-seen-this” to “Now-I’ve-seen-it.” For me, there’s always a drop-off in excitement, and lately I’ve been trying to notice when the feeling goes from one to the other, and how long it takes. I haven’t pinned it down yet, and I think it depends on the specific situation. It was natural to expand from that premise to the broader tendency to take almost everything for granted. I think you’re right that we can work harder to be more sensitive to what’s around us. But by definition, a new experience can retain its novelty for only so long, and that’s really what intrigued me.
By the way, you’ll never catch me at a cocktail party. Do they still have them?
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Rilla Z
June 22, 2014
This doesn’t look like a post on word versus intent. I guess that’s coming later. Your thoughts do coincide with what I last posted about beauty and my belief that beauty here is fleeting and only a glimpse of what is in the world to come. (Don’t know if you read that one, though.) Entropy, recycled energy, or a downgrading of every pristine thing is a natural law we grow accustomed to on this earth. It effects chemicals in our brains, as well, causing depression and a gamut of other disorders. But it’s not a law that drives the realm of eternity. So, if awe and excitement are finite here, does it make them finite in eternity? If our finite brains can only handle so much joy here, will our spirits be so limited in an everlasting life to come? I don’t think so. That’s my two cents, and I’m glad for the thought-provoking post!
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bronxboy55
June 24, 2014
If there is an afterlife, maybe one of the benefits is that we’ll be able to hold onto joy forever, rather than having to constantly search for another version of it. I don’t know. As with most things, that’s beyond my comprehension.
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silkpurseproductions
June 22, 2014
You really should visit the Grand Canyon. I can tell you from experience having been born and raised in Niagara Falls, I am awestruck every time I see it. It never gets tired and I love showing it off.
As for the rest, you are spot on, especially that eight year old kid opening the presents.
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bronxboy55
June 24, 2014
I know what you mean, Michelle. But there’s still something unique and fleeting about that first glimpse, isn’t there? I think I’m struggling with this because there’s no word in the English language for what I’m talking about.
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Bruce
June 23, 2014
Sixteenth bowl of cornflakes; I think that’s really funny Charles.
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bronxboy55
June 24, 2014
Thanks, Bruce. Glad you liked it.
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Tom Marshall
June 23, 2014
Lewis once talked about the stages of meeting in a fictional work about a trip to Mars. I’ve been to the Grand Canyon four times (2 on the south rim and 2 on the north rim) and each time it was different. First there was the sheer wonder the south rim (3 or 4 years old); and again (9 or 10 years old) that I could actually remember it; the coolness of the north rim (teenager with a youth group) I saw a deer next to the cabin at 6AM; and watching my family enjoy it (44 years old). The joy came in watching their excited hurrying because it was all a first for them. I sat on the deck just looking and enjoying the big ditch.
In Lewis his character spoke of first the meeting, and second the growing knowledge of the other, and thirdly the remembering of the meeting until it fully blooms in one’s mind and it is richer all around.
It is in these “meetings” of your insights that have made the “knowing” all the more richer. Thank you.
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bronxboy55
June 24, 2014
Have you written about those Grand Canyon visits? I think you should work a story around them.
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SomeKernelsOfTruth
June 25, 2014
So great to read about this, since I’ve always felt bad when I react this way to something I’d been looking forward to. You make a good point that it wouldn’t be a good thing to stay in the early euphoric state for too long; I never thought about it that way. Somewhere in the middle is in fact best, as you said…great post!
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bronxboy55
June 26, 2014
I guess it comes down to this: once you’ve experienced something, it isn’t new anymore. So that initial excitement that comes with novelty has to disappear.
Thanks for the kind words.
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melissa
July 4, 2014
I enjoyed your link at the end. 🙂 I’ve seen the Grand Canyon, and the excitement did last for more than a moment — probably because I almost slid into it! It was winter, and though I never knew this, they get snow at the Grand Canyon. There was ice, a narrow bar for a railing, and thankfully my husband death-gripped my arm to keep me safe. Unlike the tourists in front of us who were giggling and sliding away! But I suppose were we not having near-death experiences, things may have been different. You wonder about the most specific things, and light them up for the rest of us to enjoy. Thank you for that.
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bronxboy55
July 7, 2014
Someone fell at the Grand Canyon just a few weeks ago. I’m surprised it doesn’t happen more often, and I’m certainly glad for your husband’s death-grip!
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KL
July 4, 2014
So incredibly true! Add everything you said to un met expectation syndrome (just made it up but I bet it’s a real thing in a few years) and you have everything that is wrong with western society 🙂 I’m constantly telling my son that a new toy won’t fix what he’s feeling and that he needs to work on feelings from the inside for all the reasons you’ve just said.
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bronxboy55
July 7, 2014
Un-met Expectation Syndrome — did you really make that up? It’s perfect. I have no doubt there will soon be support groups and self-help books for UES. It may even become a legitimate plea in criminal trials.
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Nhan dinh bong da
August 26, 2015
I like this article I also totally agree with your comments ..
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