Never What It Could Be

Picking the hottest, most humid day of the summer to move, Learner and his family made it into their own apartment this past weekend.

Just as he did when they subleased for the past six weeks ago, Learner says he idealistically envisions this new place as a sanctuary and base camp for great thoughts and actions to come. He says he pictures himself rising early to meet with God; he sees his offspring eating and playing and growing up into godly children; he imagines Mrs. Learner growing in her studies (which start on Monday) as well.

All this idealism is in the front of his mind, he says, and yet he fears reality sucking him back into life as "normal," which tends to be equated with "average" in Learner's mind (and Learner doesn't do "average" all that well, at least not for an extended period of time).

During the move, Learner's friend (I'll call him The Renaissance Man, as he knows a little about a lot of things) made a rather brilliant observation about him. That afternoon, in the midst of the heaviest rain of the summer, when Learner begin moaning about how "nothing can be simple" (a mantra he lives and swears by), The Renaissance Man made the comment that "it is what it is." Learner shot back some melancholic remark, to which The Renaissance Man (an optimist) said, "For me, it is what it is. For you, it's never what it could be."

Busted. The Renaissance Man nailed him. And Learner knew it.

In the time since, Learner has thought of The Renaissance Man's statement as both a compliment and a curse. Sure, he has high standards, but he also has issues that come with those standards, and he's not sure if/how he's to change on this front. For now, he's just glad for friends who know and love him in the midst of his person and situation. Complicated as both can get, I suppose I'm one of those.