Part I
Oh God, Not This Again.
This afternoon I am extremely hungover, hunched backed, scraping my stiff, overflowing, hamper across the kitchen into the laundry room/pantry/shoe dump/ cat bathroom. The early afternoon light is screaming through the closed blinds. I’m fluctuating between searing head pains and nausea and Ella is still asleep. Opening the washing machine, (making sure to check for cats before I dump, of course) my fingers are tangled under the pressure of this really heavy hamper. I think to myself, didn’t I just do this.
God, it never ends.
Doing the laundry is typically a task for my girlfriend, Ella. But since she is sleepy, warm, and mushy in our bed, I remember that the key to a happy relationship is doing the chores. So, I rolled out of bed, banging and knocking into various furniture with this godforsaken hamper, hangover hunched, and headed towards the laundry room. Since reading the Book of Delights, I have really been trying to get into the whole spirit of embracing mundane tasks, but holy God, I hate doing laundry hungover.
Somewhere between the moments of dumping the clothes in the machine resentfully, and balancing the hamper on my knee while reaching for a Tide Pod, I was flung into the realization that a full week had passed. It’s funny how doing the laundry is my marker that seven days, each day different with its own story, have been violently torn from an imaginary book in my mind and I’m watching the pages fly away in the wind as I try to grab for them. Anyway, here I am, cranking these knobs to “regular cycle,” annoyed that I have to choose between “normal” and “regular” cycle (because it seems like there would be absolutely no difference, right?).
My name is Brooke DiMarzio and since I’ve gotten to college, I’ve struggled with living in the present. There are so many times throughout the day when I catch myself thinking about how I should be spending my time. Am I enjoying these years to the fullest? Have I missed out on opportunities because I didn’t join a sorority? Should I be living with my girlfriend in college? Should I see my family more? Why do I have three cats at 21 years old?
I suffer from obsessive compulsive comparing my life to other people’s disorder. I hate how these thoughts sometimes torment the beautiful reality I live. I think it’s fairly common though– to believe the grass is greener on the other side.
In a world where we are microscopically viewing the lives of others through pictures and videos, how could you not?
[music: “patterns” by Z-bone]
“The Present” by Billy Collins
"Much has been said about being in the present.
It’s the place to be, according to the gurus,
like the latest club on the downtown scene,
but no one, it seems, is able to give you directions.
It doesn’t seem desirable or even possible
to wake up every morning and begin
leaping from one second into the next
until you fall exhausted back into bed.
Plus, there’d be no past
with so many scenes to savor and regret,
and no future, the place you will die
but not before flying around with a jet pack.
The trouble with the present is
that its always in a state of vanishing.
Take the second it takes to end
this sentence with a period—already gone.
What about the moment that exists
between banging your thumb
with a hammer and realizing
you are in a whole lot of pain?
What about the one that occurs after you hear the punch line
but before you get the joke?
Is that where the wise men want us to live
in that intervening tick, the tiny slot
that occurs after you have spent hours
searching downtown for that new club
and just before you give up and head back home?"
Billy Collins
[music: “My Little Brown Book” John Coltrane and Duke Ellington]
Cozy in bed at 9:40 on a Sunday night, lying next to my partner, Ella, this poem literally made me laugh out loud. The first time I read this poem at 14 years old, it went right over my head. Billy Collins was a little too sophisticated for me as a sophomore in high school.
After needing to find a poem to string together some sort of response to this assignment, I fished through my bookshelf and caught Billy Collins’ The Rain in Portugal.
What a delight it was to connect with this work again, seven years later and just a few months away from a degree in English.
In “The Present,” Collins grapples with the idea of living in the moment. In many ways, he challenges the way living in the present is pushed upon us. It seems like Collins wants us to, from time to time, exist in the past and future—live in our memories and fantasies.
I thought it was really clever– the way he freezes us in that moment of time where we experience moments before the uninhibited forces of life. I love how he has these two contrasting physiological responses to demonstrate the present—physical pain and physical laughter. It’s great how he barely uses imagery, but the jarring feeling of hitting your finger with a hammer causes you to flinch while reading.
I get a sense that Collins is struggling with the feeling that life is happening to him. As someone who sometimes feels like I have no real control over my life, I caught onto these suggestions throughout the poem.
Is the speaker of this poem suggesting that life just happens to us, before we can even process what is actually happening?
I think that there is something so humorous about this poem that makes me feel recognized in many ways. Maybe it’s the idea that we do not always have control over the moments that make up our lives and sometimes life just happens to us.