It’s too easy, you see, to get trapped in the past. The past is very seductive. People always talk about the mists of time, you know, but really it’s the present that’s in a mist, uncertain. The past is quite clear, and warm, and comforting. That’s why people often get stuck there.
That’s why you have to write your book right now, if that’s what you want to do. If you wait until you have the time, and the security, you might not want to do it. You’re in a race against your own enthusiasm. Don’t put it off because someone told you it’s never too late. That’s the worst lie. It’s never too late today, but it’s often too late tomorrow.
There is something to be said about walking, putting one foot before another in the sand, the desert heat on my back, and nothing between my skin and the sky. I watched thunderclouds gather in the distance. The celestial drama fascinated me, but I was also trying to time its arrival; I had nowhere to hide in a lightning storm. As I walked I imagined myself itinerant in the landscape, the petty concerns of everyday life receding, and nature an encounter without the mediation of a lens. I saw the seduction of this vision, though I also knew that it was planted in me long ago.
Being in love is a good thing, but it is not the best thing. There are many things below it, but there are also things above it. You cannot make it the basis of a whole life. It is a noble feeling, but it is still a feeling. Now no feeling can be relied on to last in its full intensity, or even to last at all. Knowledge can last, principles can last, habits can last; but feelings come and go.