Anti-Climacus

REFLECTIONS: on my short trip back to Midland:

Going back used to be the ultimate occasion for ennui, a time to remember all the missteps I made and re-fight all the old battles, even if only in my head. It was curious to me that this time I felt nothing. The past (which runs all the way through the summer after Freshman year), I guess, I just label as one big mistake, aided and abetted by my youth (seems slightly odd to be writing that, but whatever might've been left of my naivete disappeared this summer, and I can't say, on balance, that I'm sad to have seen it go). There were frequent accusations during that period of my callousness, which, I think, was best addressed by T.S. Eliot (just slightly removed from 'Prufrock,' Dara will no doubt be glad to hear):

"And youth is cruel, and has no remorse
and smiles at situations which it cannot see"

So there you have it. My youth, like everyone's: the arrogant smile of one who does not know. I do reserve judgment against myself, though: it wasn't ignorance that made me so difficult to deal with-- I couldn't have known, and I can only hope to have the humility and ability to forgive that I didn't have then.