Two halves of a life were debating like unhappy twins. Both had studied the classical methods of confession and so they were voluble but insincere. Neither one knew how to escape forward. Anyway, it was late in the day and shadows spread across the lawn and the transitive life stood between them—one may call her “future pneuma perfect” though it scarcely matters for she can take care of herself.
“What,” she said, “causes you to think the past is definitely settled? Don’t you know it’s changing right now, beneath your feet?” “This is the future of resignation—patience, day-dreams, small plantings…”
The twins, who’d been bitching about memories of childhood, went silent. Future Pneuma Perfect was suggesting hopefulness was made of glass shards and sacrifice.
The twins cried out this was un-American. They protested, the future must be always happy happy and allotted without trouble. Have a Coke and a smile. Put your foot on the gas.
“There is no coming to consciousness without pain,” Future Pneuma Perfect said then, quoting Carl Jung.
“You’re a snob!” Twin number one said then.
“Yeah!” Said number two.
“Yes,” said Pneuma, “but I prefer the word “snoot” as you see, I’ve learned from my mistakes.”
The twins, two halves of a life, didn’t know what this meant.
And beneath them, like that scene in the Godfather where you hear the subway under the restaurant, the future was changing underneath them.
Class discussion:
What are the classical methods of confession?
What does it mean to be voluble but insincere?
What is future pneuma perfect?
What does she mean by “I’ve learned from my mistakes”?
What’s more un-American: believing in time as an obstacle to fulfillment or, as the poet said, “lacking all conviction”?
Meanwhile FNP is still in mind of Jung: “One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light but by making the darkness conscious. ’ Subway noises…
Poet, Essayist, Blogger, Journalist, Memoirist, Disability Rights Advocate, Public Speaker, Professor, Syracuse University
